


Orbit

by Kendas



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:54:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23648800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kendas/pseuds/Kendas
Summary: Five times Viktor is endlessly patient and the one time Hermione isn't.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Viktor Krum
Comments: 67
Kudos: 280





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is the first thing I've written in fandom in over ten years. It's not a pairing I've ever really written before except for one scene, but I recently fell in love with them. It was supposed to be a short little 5 and 1, not the second longest thing I have written to completion.
> 
> This Viktor is probably - undoubtedly - heavily influenced by Rozarka’s amazing Viktor and it was reading her old stories of this pairing that inspired me to want to write again. I've been watching a lot of Jane Austen too and I feel that's probably had some influence, though I don't think it's obviously noticeable.
> 
> It’s somewhat Deathly Hallows compliant with the exception of the conclusion and my omission of a few deaths I struggled with. Plus just a little tweaking here and there. I've also kept Hermione’s Mudblood scar which wasn’t explicitly in the books.
> 
>  **Beta:** Rozarka - thank you so much for both the encouragement all the way through and for making this so much better with your awesome beta skills.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** Neither the world nor the characters are mine, I’m just playing in JKR and Warner Brothers’ sandbox.

****

**Orbit**

__

_Perhaps we were  
Born in the same star.  
I can feel the space  
Dust in my soul  
Hauling us together.  
David Jones_

****

**One  
Aphelion **   
_Bulgaria, July 1997_

When Viktor finally opened the door, Hermione had almost convinced herself to turn tail and run.

She stood on the steps of the small cottage he owned with absolutely no idea what she was going to say to him. She bit her lip and wound her hands in the straps of the little beaded bag that she'd packed before sending her parents off to their new - hopefully safer - life .

It was summer in Bulgaria and she should have felt warm, but she was so cold she felt numb. She wrapped her arms around herself and tried to rub some warmth back into her skin with her hands.

“Her-my-nee? “Viktor said. 

Even with her back to him she could hear the genuine happiness in his voice as he said her name, and she felt all of her carefully controlled emotions suddenly snap. 

“Is vonderf-” he broke off as she turned around, tears welling in her eyes. “Vot is wrong?” he finished instead, his voice full of concern.

“Ca… ca… can I come in?” Hermione stuttered on a sob.

Viktor didn't answer. Instead, he stepped through the door and pulled her into his arms, wrapping her in a tight hug that made the tears come faster, everything from the last few days finally releasing. Viktor murmured soothing noises and words into her hair and Hermione finally felt some of the cold that had taken residence in her body, leach from her bones. She buried her nose into his t-shirt, her fingers clenching in the material that was already damp from her crying, and let herself go.

She'd felt so alone the last few weeks, unable to explain to her parents exactly what was happening and why they were so at risk. She'd tried, but the words just wouldn't come, too scared of what they'd say. In the end, she’d found herself preferring to sit in her room and read and plan as much as she could. It was easier than sitting downstairs and watching sitcoms with them, pretending everything was normal and there wasn’t a megalomaniac trying to wipe out people like her and kill her best friend. She knew her mom and dad already resented the wizarding world and her magic for how much time she spent away from them, how little they felt they were a part of her life now. Hermione was certain that knowing the danger their daughter was in would only further that resentment. When she'd decided to send them away with a new set of memories, it hadn't been just to keep them safe from Voldemort. She thought perhaps they would be better off just not remembering, especially if anything… happened to her.

Despite her loneliness since returning from Hogwarts, when she had stepped out of the door of her childhood home that last time, she'd felt adrift in the world in a way she hadn't anticipated. 

She wasn't sure how long Viktor held her, but after a while, when her tears had not subsided, she felt his arms around her shift. For a moment, she thought he would pull away, but instead the scruff of his beard brushed her forehead as he slid a hand behind her knees, scooping her up into his arms so he could carry her inside.

She couldn't seem to stop crying now she'd started. Distantly, she heard the bang of the door as he presumably kicked it closed, and then he was shifting her in his arms again, settling her against his chest as he sat down, a blanket sliding around her shoulders.

“Am here, Her-my-nee. Is safe. Shhhh,” Viktor soothed over and over, his voice an endless murmur of reassurance that blurred into oblivion as she cried.

~*~

She must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew, she was blinking sore, puffy eyes open to warm lamplight and a darkening window. When she moved, she felt Viktor’s t-shirt pull on the skin of her cheek where her tears had dried and stuck to the material.

She was still cradled in his lap, and she found herself reluctant to move. Viktor’s thumb started rubbing back and forth on her arm, lulling her back towards unconsciousness, but the sound of a page turning piqued her curiosity and made her lift her head. 

“What are you reading?” she asked, tilting her head just slightly to see if she could peer at the cover. 

“Is just story by Polish… hmm... non-vizard – Muggle - author I like. Is about a man vith supernatural powers trained to hunt monsters,” Viktor replied.

Hermione couldn't see his face from where she was and she wasn't sure she was quite ready to, but she could feel his eyes on her even though the book didn't lower from where he held it up.

“Would you... would you read me a little please?” she asked.

Viktor breathed out - a long exhale of air that tickled through her hair and across her scalp. For a moment, she thought he would refuse and ask for an explanation of why she'd turned up on his doorstep in such a state, but he didn't. Instead, he slowly began to read in his native Bulgarian. She marvelled for a moment at how patient he was to not push her for an explanation, she wasn't sure she would be if their situation was reversed. He was a Seeker though - used to waiting. She settled her head back against his chest and let his voice lull her back into a doze.

~*~

When she woke again the window was completely dark and she was lying alone on Viktor’s settee, the blanket still tucked around her and a cushion beneath her head. She could hear noises from somewhere else in the house, and thought she could even hear the surprisingly soft, but gruff sound of Viktor singing.

She sat up and stretched. Her shoulders were stiff and her body still felt drained, despite her suspicion she'd slept longer than she had all summer. Her head hurt too. She pushed herself to stand up, but pulled the blanket up with her, wrapping it around her shoulders. 

When she peeked her head around the kitchen door, Viktor had his back to her. He was chopping vegetables at the counter, still singing in those soft tones that had been barely audible from the other room. She thought it was maybe a folk song, but the words were in Bulgarian and she could only make out the odd one. She stood there and watched him for a moment, finding herself flushing at the play of muscles in his back as he chopped neatly in a way even Snape surely could not find fault with. He really was attractive. Even more so because of how kind he was, she thought. He had never been at all like the preconceived notions she'd once held of him before he'd approached her in the library. She'd anticipated that he'd have a sense of entitlement and self-importance based on the way he'd been thrust into the limelight at such a young age. He had been quite the contradiction though, Hermione finding that he was far more down to earth and unassuming than she could have guessed. Seeing him in this moment only accentuated those facets of him.

She coughed to alert him to her presence and smiled shyly when he turned around, still a bit embarrassed about earlier.

“Um, where’s your bathroom please?” she asked. 

Viktor studied her a moment, his brow drawn into a deep furrow with worry. “Is upstairs, two doors down hallvay.” 

“Thanks,” she replied, slipping back out and up the stairs.

~*~

“What are you making?” Hermione asked when she returned, taking a seat at the table. Viktor was adding potatoes and some other veg to a pan on the stove. She could smell the scent of the onions that must have already been cooking, her eyes stinging at the fumes.

“Soup,” answered Viktor. “Is my father’s recipe. Ve used to cook it for my Mama ven I vas a boy.”

“I didn't know you cooked.”

“A little. Simple food only. Is good - necessary - skill ven living alone.” Viktor stirred in the vegetables and poured in some brown liquid, before adding a lid and turning around to face her. He crossed his arms across his chest and fixed her with a serious scowl.

“I like the beard,” she said, thumbing a hole in the edge of the blanket and studying the table top. “Suits you.”

“Her-my-nee,” he started, his brow softening slightly, but Hermione interrupted him. 

“Bet your female fans love it,” she added and couldn’t help the seed of bitter envy that crept into her voice, even though she knew he didn't deserve it. Viktor had never been comfortable with the attention he got and she wasn't jealous - not really. Not in that way at least.

“Her-my-nee!” he said again, but now his voice was a bit louder and he stepped towards her, dropping to his knees beside her chair and taking her hands. “Please, talk to me. Tell me vy you are coming here in tears.” 

Hermione chewed her lip and looked down at her hands in Viktor’s much larger ones. She felt so small.

“The war is starting,” she said quietly and Viktor nodded.

“I know. Ve feel it here too.”

“Harry’s right at the centre. He can't… I can't let him do this alone.” 

Viktor’s jaw twitched like he was grinding his teeth and he nodded again, his expression far graver this time. “Know this too, though vish it vere not so.”

“I'm probably going to have to go away for a bit and my parents - there won’t be anyone to protect them and I… Viktor, I didn't know how to explain it all to them so they'd understand.” Hermione could feel the pitch of her voice rising, the lump of a sob in the back of her throat and she tightened her grip on his hands, looking up at him in slight desperation.

“You think they vouldn’t let you go, da?” 

Hermione nodded and looked away from him, not quite able to meet his eyes for this next bit. “I Obliviated myself from their memories. And er... suggested they go away.”

Viktor was silent, and when Hermione chanced a look up at him, his eyes were wide and he was staring at her.

“I was quite thorough. I thought it was best,” she shrugged, pulled her hands from his grip and wrapped her arms around herself instead, suddenly cold again.

“That is… very complex magic,” Viktor said slowly, and it was clear it wasn't a compliment, clear how much concern he felt for her in the timber of his voice and the way he ducked his head to catch her eyes as he cupped her cheek in his hand. “Her-my-nee, _mila_ , you might not…” 

“I know.” She shrugged, managing to hold back the flood of tears again. She thought maybe she'd cried so much it would be impossible for any more to come. “But I had to be sure I'd done all I could for them.”

“Is very brave of you, _malka lūvitsa_ , and understandable now vy you are so… sad.” Viktor’s other hand reached for her shoulder and he pulled her into his lap, wrapping her up in the safety of his embrace once more.

Hermione closed her eyes and just let him hold her. There was a kind of release in knowing that someone else knew that made her feel less alone. She was suddenly so very glad she'd come here to see him, even if confiding in him about her parents hadn't been her intention. He had always been such a good friend to her, so easy to talk to with his patience and surprising aptitude for both insightfulness and empathy. He was a really good listener.

Of course his insightfulness was not always something she was grateful for as he proved a moment later.

“Her-my-nee, am pleased you felt you could come to me vith this, but also a little confused. Is something else too, _da_?”

Hermione bit her lip and felt her face flush full of heat. _Oh Merlin_ , she thought, her previous indecision about how to phase her request returning. 

She felt Viktor pull back slightly. His hands moved to her arms to push her back, no doubt so he could see her face better and scowl at her in that way that she was entirely too fond of and not at all intimidated by - much to his amusement.

“No, please! I can't...” she got out, and she pressed her face further into his chest, his grip quickly relaxing.

“Vot is it?”

“I think this might be easier, if I don't have to look you in the eye,” she answered, and that admission was rather embarrassing in and of itself. She suddenly felt very much her fifteen year old self again, when she'd panicked over taking Viktor up on his offer to visit him and his possible expectations. But she wasn’t fifteen and she was supposed to be a Gryffindor. And really if she wasn't going to look him in the eye, then how could she expect to convince him to help? Viktor was almost ridiculously chivalrous and carefully respectful. At least when it came to her. 

She sighed, and pulled back, lifting her head up to meet his eyes. “Sorry, it's just that this feels a bit weird.”

“You haff met somevon?” Viktor guessed, and she didn't miss the hint of disappointment in his voice.

“No! No, that's not it at all. I still, well… I still don't feel ready for all of that, especially not now with the war and everything,” Hermione reassured him, and Viktor seemed to both relax and sit straighter. 

“Then vot is it?”

She bit her lip and looked at him for a long moment. Then, in a rush of breath, said, “I want you to take my virginity.”

Viktor went very still. She felt his muscles tense, and watched his pupils dilate just slightly.

“Um,” she said ineloquently when several long moments had passed and he still hadn't spoken.

Finally, he took a slow breath in, followed by a cough as he slowly shifted his hands to her upper arms. “Think is best ve continue conversation vith little more space,” he said, his voice slightly strained as he carefully started to lift her backwards off his lap.

“Oh, er, right. Sorry!” Hermione stuttered as she shuffled off him.

Viktor stood and pulled a chair at the table out for Hermione, then when she'd taken it, he hesitated a moment before stepping away and taking a chair on the opposite side of the table. 

“I mean of course unless you don't want to. Gosh, this was really awfully presumptuous of me. Especially as we haven't even seen each other in two years, just exchanged letters. And I guess I didn't even really consider that you might be seeing someone, which is silly because of course you probably are; it's not like we're… you know, and you are well, _you_ and I'm…” 

“Her-my-nee,” Viktor said firmly, cutting off her babbling. “Is okay. I am not seeing anyvon. And is not…” He coughed, his eyes rolling up to look at the ceiling and his cheeks flushing in a way Hermione would not have expected. “Is not -” he swallowed “-unappealing thought. Very much opposite.”

Hermione smiled at that and ducked her head, feeling herself blush with delight. 

“But is very unexpected.” Viktor continued, more seriously. “More so as you also haff said you vere still not ready for relationship. I feel a little confused.”

“Oh, right. Of course,” she said.

Viktor stayed quiet, just watching her, waiting.

“I've, um, been doing a lot of reading on the last war and, well, earlier ones too,” she said finally, tracing a swirl of wood in the table top as she tried to get all her thoughts in order to explain. “Trying to get more of a feel for different strategies and things I might need to be prepared for.”

“Is good idea,” Viktor agreed, though somewhat bemusedly. “Ve do similar vith Quidditch. I know is different, but…” He broke off and shrugged.

Hermione nodded, but when she continued her voice was quieter. “Some of the books and accounts I've been reading are – Merlin! So awful, Viktor. The things that have been done. It's hard… Well, it's not improved the amount of sleep I've been getting. I guess they really are right when they say ignorance is bliss.”

“ _Da_ , but not alvays safer, hmm?” Viktor said softly and reached across the table to reclaim her hand, giving it a squeeze. “If vas easy being brave it vould mean little. There is bravery in opening your eyes.”

Hermione looked up at him and nodded. “Thanks,” she said with a wry smile, momentarily distracted by the way he was looking at her. He seemed to see her as so much more than just a bossy little know-it-all. Like she was to be esteemed. It was a unique experience.

Slightly flustered, she continued. “I found some accounts of misuse of some of the older spells that were, um, used in arranged marriages back in the middle ages, before the Ministry _‘retired’_ them. Have you... heard of any of those?” 

His face grew grave. “Those spells - they are dark magic. Using a vitch’s maidenhood to bind and control her...” His mouth turned down in revulsion, his expression more than adequately illustrating just how abhorrent he found such magic. 

“Can I ask how you know about them?” Hermione asked, curiously. “It took me ages to find even a bit of real information on them past the accounts from the trials which were really only statements.”

“I’ve told you in letters of my sister, yes? That she is lawyer. She is specialist in cases of injustice. Haff often thought how much you vould like her and she you,” Viktor said, and just for a moment his lips tipped up in a slight smile that Hermione fancied seemed slightly whimsical and it made her stomach flip. 

“A few years back, she took a case of vitch whose family suspected she had been subjected to such magic. Ana found case very hard. Very distressing. She talked to me a lot during those months.”

“I see,” Hermione said. “I'd never heard about those spells before this summer. It's not the first time I've researched the first war either, but…”

“To talk of them now is almost taboo,” replied Viktor. “They are vorst magic, stronger than Imperio even. Can only be broke by death of caster.”

“That's what I gathered,” Hermione said quietly, drawing her hands back to rub across her face.

“You are vorried… You-know-who vill use these spells on you if you are caught?” Viktor asked.

“I found two accounts that he has used them before during his first rise. A few more that were suspected, but unproven. Viktor, I can’t risk that,” she said desperately. “I know far too much about what Harry has to do. And I don't want...” Hermione choked back a sob. 

Viktor nodded slowly, his face sad.

“You said feels veird to ask me this. Is because you imagined it to be different, yes,” Viktor said, pushing himself up from the chair and walking around the table to drop back down in front of Hermione just as he had earlier. He lifted his hand to her cheek, cradling it, his eyes full of worry and remorse. “And you should. Should vant it to be different. Should not be like this. Should be something you do because you desire it, because you are ready, in love perhaps. Not something you do because you are scared.”

“But I am scared, Viktor, and at least this way it would still be with someone who I like and trust.” Hermione hesitated, before lifting her hand and cupping his cheek too. “And I do like you, Viktor. And trust you. I know you wouldn't hurt me. That you’d -” she flushed, and the heat from her cheeks spread down through her body “- make it good.”

Viktor groaned and closed his eyes, dropping his forehead to rest on her knees. “Think you should not trust me so much, _malka lūvitsa_.” 

It was a while before either of them spoke again. Hermione could hear Viktor’s quiet breaths in and out, could feel the warmth of them against her knees, and found herself matching them. Her cheeks still felt unbearably warm and she was sure it wasn't just embarrassment flooding them now. Her hand slid uncertainly up onto the crown of Viktor’s head, carding through the short, dark hairs down to his nape where there was a mole set just slightly off centre.

Viktor pushed his head into her hands and she took the hint and pressed her finger tips deeper into his scalp.

“ _Da eba_!” he moaned.

Hermione bit her lip and smiled at the spontaneous expletive. “Will you help me?” she asked.

“Think I need to talk to Ana,” he said and sighed as she pushed her thumb and finger down either side of the top of his spine.

“Your sister?” Hermione asked, confused.

Viktor lifted his head and looked up at her, his eyes hooded, and Hermione felt a fresh wave of heat. “Frown is adorable on you,” he said with a lopsided smile, reaching out to smooth his fingers over the lines in her forehead. “Reminds me much of vatching you in library and trying to be brave enough to ask beautiful girl to ball.”

He dropped his hand and sat back, putting a bit more space between them. “ _Da_ , my sister. Remember her saying something ven she talked to me of case. Think there is another vay you can protect yourself vithout…” He broke off, gesturing between them.

“Really, Viktor?” Hermione asked, widening her eyes. “I’d not read anything that suggested that might be possible.” 

“Not all knowledge can be found in books,” he teased, tapping the end of her nose. “Think Ana said it is hedge magic -ritual - passed from vitch to vitch. Vould haff been very taboo once too.”

“Oh, Viktor, thank you so much. That would be wonderful,” Hermione exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck in relief and kissing his cheek. 

Viktor slid his arms around Hermione’s back and held her to him, laughing lightly. “Think I should feel little offended that you are so happy to not need to haff sex vith me now.”

“Oh Viktor, I didn’t mean…” Hermione said with an embarrassed gasp.

“Is okay. Is as it should be,” he reassured, letting her go and walking to the stove. “Though vould very much like to hear you ask same again von day, but for… better reasons.”

Hermione smiled shyly, unsure of what to say in return.

“Vill dish up soup and you should drink some vater - vill be dehydrated from earlier. Then I vill floo Ana.”

“Viktor,” Hermione said, standing up and walking over to where he was dishing up the soup.

He turned to her, ladle in one hand and a bowl in the other. His sleeves were pushed up exposing his muscled forearms. Hermione swallowed, momentarily reconsidering whether she really wanted him to call Ana. He really was gorgeous, especially in the casual domesticity of that moment, but more than that he was honourable and considerate in a way that reminded Hermione of the Austen novels her mum had once gifted her. And, for some reason she couldn't quite fathom, he seemed rather set on his interest in her.

His eyes dropped to where her hands had risen to rest on his arms and he tilted his head, quirking his lips to the side.

“For what it's worth, I hope that one day I'll ask you again too,” she said determinedly. “I really do think you'd make it a smashing experience.”

Viktor groaned, his head falling to rest against her shoulder. “How much do you think about this, _malka lūvitsa_?”

Hermione laughed, snagging the bowl from his hand and stepping away. “Probably more often after today,” she admitted with a blush. 

Viktor looked up at her, grinning wolfishly with dark, hooded eyes and looking more rakish than she thought any Austen hero had any right to. “Von day,” he said and it sounded like a promise.

**A.N:**   
-malka lūvitsa = Little lioness, or at least I hope so as I used google translate  
-Da eba - oh fuck


	2. Chapter 2

****

**Two  
Retrograde**   
_August 1st 1997, The Burrow_

Viktor stared down at the selection of canapés laid out on the table and wished he hadn't come.

He'd only accepted the invitation in the hope he'd be able to see her again one last time before the situation deteriorated further. His family had all advised him against travelling back to Britain, thinking it too risky.

But he’d wanted...

A familiar laugh rang out behind him, curly brown hair swinging into his field of vision, a flash of her brilliant smile aimed at someone else.

Vikor swore under his breath and turned away, not willing to torture himself. 

He wasn’t jealous. 

He was glad she was happy, it’s just he'd thought when she’d visited a few weeks earlier that maybe she was starting to consider…

And she'd said she still wasn't really ready for a relationship, especially on the precipice of war, but there she was dancing and laughing in the arms of that red-headed friend of hers - Ron. And his cousin had said they were together.

Okay, he was a bit jealous. It would be hard not to be when he was fairly sure she was - it. She was intelligent beyond comparison, driven, kind and good in a way that his parents had always told him to value highly, and beautiful though she never seemed very conscious of it. _Perfect_ and the one, at least he'd hoped she would be. No one else seemed able to hold a candle to her.

He sighed, picked up one of the small french pastries and took a bite.

He should be glad she was safe, happy and had found someone to give her comfort. To make her feel less lost. She clearly needed the connection. She'd seemed so adrift when she'd visited him. 

What he should not be doing was eying up her paramour’s sister; probably her friend - Merlin he was a scoundrel - and considering, not just seeking petty revenge on Ron, but also an attempt to incite a bit of regret in Hermione.

_Scoundrel_ he thought again, disgusted at himself. He wasn’t just better than that kind of behaviour, he was too old for it as well.

“Viktor!” exclaimed a light, musical voice behind him, drawing him out of his maudlin thoughts. 

He put his mostly empty plate down and turned, forcing a smile onto his face for Fleur. 

“I am so glad zat you were able to come,” she said, leaning in to kiss both his cheeks. “Eet ‘as been too long.”

“Vas French Ministry ball, _da_?” he said.

“Ah _Oui_ , eet must ‘ave been.” 

“I vas very pleased to see your invite,” he replied. You look very beautiful bride,” complimented Viktor. “Your new husband must feel a very lucky vizard,” he added, his eyes drifting over to where Hermione was still dancing.

“Eet is me ‘oo is ze lucky one,” she said, a dreamy look in her eyes as she looked across the room towards her new husband who was dancing with his mother.

‘Am very glad to see you so happy, Fleur.”

“ _Oui_ , I am quite besotted,” she said laughing. “‘e ees very dashing, do you not theenk, and so clever.”

Viktor smiled genuinely at her. Seeing someone so in love was a little infectious.

“My _Maman_ was quite disappointed eet was not her friend's son ‘oo ‘ad caught my ‘eart, but I could not be ‘appier,” she said with her hand on her heart and a dramatic little twirl.

“I am very pleased for you both,” replied Viktor, and he was, but he also felt a little wistful as he again glanced across to Hermione, who was now dancing with an older, red haired man.

“Ah, but I see your own ‘eart ees still quite caught by a certain clever leetle witch,” she said suddenly with a tilt of her head and a quirk to her lips as she followed his eyes.

“Any man vould be a fool not to be caught by her,” he said softly. Then with a frown added, “Am very certain it is not just me.”

Fleur placed her hand on his arm and leant in with a gentle smile and said, “Ze difference ees you realise eet. Zat gives you quite ze advantage,” she said knowingly, tossing a look towards Hermione’s previous dance partner. 

“Maybe,” said Viktor cautiously, not entirely sure what to take from Fleur’s words. If they were together, surely this Ron had to know how he felt about her. Unless he was treating her poorly. Viktor scowled at the idea. Across the room though, Hermione was laughing again, her eyes bright and sparkling even from this distance. He could not imagine his brave little lioness letting anyone treat her badly. “Maybe am lacking other advantages though.”

“Ah no _cherie_ , do not give up . You must be prepared to battle for ‘er ‘eart,” said Fleur in a tone that suggested she thought it the epitome of romance.

Viktor’s lips tilted up in a sad half-smile that was tinged with apprehension. His heart ached at what would likely soon come - his Hermione at the centre of it all. “Think very soon ve vill all haff had enough of battles,” he said.

Fleur’s brow furrowed too and her lips turned down at the reminder. “Zat ees unfortunately likely to be true,” she agreed.

“Am sorry. Should not haff mentioned such dark business on such a happy day,” he said, full of sincere regret.

Fleur waved him off, but her smile was dimmed and Viktor was reminded of the scars on her new husband's face. He cursed himself a little more.

“ _Mais c’est comme ça_ ,” Fleur replied. “Do not give up, Viktor. We all need a leetle ‘ope, especially now. And I theenk-” she paused and looked across the dancers, her head tilted “- _Oui_ , I am sure ‘er ‘eart ees a leetle caught too.”

Viktor looked at her surprised, before looking across the tent to try to find Hermione, but she seemed to have disappeared.

“Ah, but I must away. I see my dreadful cousin ‘as cornered my dear Bill. I must save ‘im before ‘ee regrets marrying a ‘alf Veela.” She went to turn away, then paused and added, “Remember Viktor - ‘ope.” And then she was gone in a swirl of white robes and silvery, blonde hair and Viktor was alone again. 

He turned back to the buffet table and picked up his plate once more.

“Aren't you going to ask me to dance, Viktor?” a voice asked from behind him.

When he turned, Hermione was stood with her head cocked to the side, a slightly shy smile on her lips.

“Von’t Ron be upset? He does not like me much.”

Hermione laughed. “Probably, but it’s not really any of his business who I choose to dance with. And I'd like to dance with you again, Viktor,” Hermione said, smiling up at him, a little coy maybe which was – unexpected.

Viktor glanced across the assembled guests seeking out a specific head of red hair. It wasn't an easy task when so many of the guests were Weasleys. He found him though. He was standing by the drinks table, stammering at one of Fleur’s cousins as he offered her a flower he had surely liberated from one of the table arrangements.

Viktor glanced back at Hermione, who was still smiling at him – radiantly.

“You are not… together?”

“Together? What, me and Ron?” she asked, clearly surprised. Her eyes flicked over to Ron who was now offering the part-Veela a plate of haphazardly piled food.

Viktor nodded, studying her carefully. There was something there, he thought, there was a little more colour in her cheeks, a little more irritation in the way she narrowed her eyes when she looked across the room.

“Er, no,” she said, looking back at Viktor and rolling her eyes. “I really don't know where you'd get that idea. I'm pretty sure Ron still doesn't even realise I'm a girl!”

“His cousin, Barny - think vas Barny - told me you vere,” Viktor said, and refrained from expanding on that with the fact that Ron definitely did see her as a girl based on the way he was looking at her earlier.

“Oh, er, really?” she replied peering curiously at the cousin who was now talking to a rather elderly wizard. “Well,” she said suddenly, turning back to Viktor and shrugging. “I really don't know why he'd say that.”

Viktor had an idea. He glanced briefly back towards the redhead, keeping his face carefully impassive. She was going on some kind of quest with him and Potter. Alone probably. He'd gathered that much at least from reading between the lines during their conversations in Bulgaria. Who knew how long this war would take or the outcome. And war - could make people act more impetuously.

Viktor looked back at Hermione, the highlights in her curly hair glittering in the sun, just like her eyes did whenever she talked about something that interested her. He smiled at her, wide and toothy, and he felt it in his stomach when she returned it just as brightly. 

He'd just have to leave a lasting impression because, despite the odds, he was not giving up. 

He swept into a deep bow, a smirk on his lips when Hermione laughed at his antics. “Please forgive my, hmm... neglect. _Malka lūvitsa_ , vould you do me honour of dancing vith me again?”

Hermione was still laughing lightly, but she nodded and reached out to take the hand he'd offered. He caught her hand and pulled it up to his lips, brushing a kiss over her knuckles and delighting in the flush on her cheeks.

“You are ridiculous,” Hermione said with a smile as he pulled her in.

“Only vith you,” Viktor replied, whispering it against the shell of her ear as he led her into a waltz.

Hermione pulled back a fraction and looked at him, curiosity fading into a fond smile. “Have you been practicing?” she asked as they swirled around the dance floor.

Viktor grinned. “Should I take it as compliment improvement is so clear, or feel shamed dancing vas so bad before that any change is good?”

“A compliment, please,” Hermione laughed, her cheeks flushed.

“Vas very nervous ven danced vith you before,” Viktor whispered secretly. “Vanted very much to impress this beautiful, intelligent girl who had agreed to accompany me.”

Hermione smiled, then bit her lip on a grin. He adored the way she did that. Her lip was always suffering under either her frustration at some tome, or her own nerves. It made him want to lean in and soothe the poor, abused flesh with his own lips. 

“You don't want to impress me now?” she asked cheekily.

Viktor was quiet for a moment, his eyes roaming over her face, drinking her in and memorising her just like this.

“More so,” he admitted quietly. “But now am very aware treading on your feet vill not help.”

Hermione laughed and Viktor felt it in his stomach. He would gladly make a fool of himself for this girl.

The music changed, slowing to a much gentler waltz. When Viktor glanced around, he saw Fleur standing by the musicians and looking at him and Hermione with a sly smile and a raised eyebrow.

For a moment Viktor wondered if Hermione would pull away, uncomfortable at the change in pace like so many other couples that were leaving the floor and exchanging partners. But she didn't. Instead, she stepped closer and with a quick assessing look up at him first, she rested her head against his chest.

Viktor’s heartbeat sped up as he looked down at the top of her head, her curls almost tickling his chin.

“You impress me all the time, Viktor,” she said, so quietly he almost missed it amongst the noise in the marquee. Something swelled in his chest and he thought of Fleur’s words to him again.

He looked around, trying to find his French friend, discovering her in the arms of her husband not too far away.

He caught her eye, inclined his head in a slight nod and mouthed _‘thank you’_ at her. She smiled back, mouthing ‘ _hope’_ in return before she closed her eyes and settled her own head against her partner's.

Viktor smiled softly, kissed the top of Hermione’s curls, and brought their joined hands up to rest against his chest while they continued to sway. The rest of the dance floor and its inhabitants faded away, his thoughts of war momentarily forgotten.

**A.N:**   
-malka lūvitsa = Little lioness, or at least I hope so as I used google translate.  
-Mais c’est comme ça = but it's like that (I was looking for a French expression similar to ‘it is what it is’ and this was the closest I found.


	3. Chapter 3

****

**Three  
Copernicus**   
_May 1998, The Burrow_

It was only about a week after the final battle when Hermione saw Viktor again. She and Harry were looking after little Teddy at the Burrow while Andromeda and the Weasley’s spent most of their time at St Mungo’s, waiting to see if Fred and Tonks would wake up.

Hermione was keeping herself busy trying to make sure everyone came home to a decent meal and clean clothes. Occasionally, Ginny, Ron or Charlie would stay home with them, but today Charlie had gone grocery shopping at the farmer's market in the next village over, and the others were with their parents and George. 

To tell the truth, Hermione was grateful for the time alone, even if she wasn't grateful for the circumstances that had pulled people away. The one time she and Harry had tried to visit the hospital, reporters had swarmed them and Hermione had felt her chest tighten and her vision start to blur at the press of too many bodies and too many voices around her. She hadn't felt much better when the Burrow was full and bustling of an evening either. She kept finding herself retreating to Ginny’s room to escape. Months spent alone in a tent on high alert with just Harry and Ron for company, had left her more sensitive to noise and crowds than she’d anticipated. She expected she'd get used to it again, but for now she was glad of the space and time to adjust. 

It wasn't just being back in society that was taking some getting used to either. Everything right down to making a cup of tea felt surreal. She kept half expecting to wake up and discover it was all a cruel spell and that she was, instead, still under Bellatrix’s wand on the floor of Malfoy Manor. 

The kettle whistled on the stove snapping Hermione from the daze she'd fallen into while watching Harry and Teddy through the window. She lifted it off and started pouring it into the two cups she'd set up, marvelling at the simple luxury of the sweet smell swirling up from the earl grey teabag in her own mug. She was just placing the two mugs on a tray along with Teddy’s bottle, when the doorbell went.

When she opened it, it was only a crack and her wand was in her hand, her shoulders tense with apprehension. Despite the reassurance of the rebuilt wards surrounding the Burrow, she couldn't seem to stop being overly wary. _Constant vigilance,_ her mind seemed to whisper at her on repeat. Her breath, however, whooshed out of her only a moment later when she peeped outside, her body relaxing and filling with joy at the sight of this particular visitor.

Viktor’s tall frame took up much of the Burrow's small porch. He was standing with his back to her, his hands shoved into the pockets of his grey slacks. His head was tilted back as he looked up at the bright, blue summer sky that was an oblique contrast to the horrors their world had faced over the last year.

“Viktor!” she gasped. He was so unexpected, but she was so glad to see him alive and well.

He turned at her exclamation, and his eyes widened at the sight of her.

“Hermione! I did not expect…” he started. His eyes moved over her then, cataloguing and full of concern that showed in the way his brow drew down into a deep furrow before he caught himself. His back straightened again and he fixed his eyes on her face, “I vanted to see you, to check… I had hoped Fleur or her… Veasleys vould tell me vere to find you, but you are here.” 

His eyes flicked to her arm and Hermione glanced down to where the long sleeves of her t-shirt were rolled up, the edge of her latest scar just visible. She coughed and covered the deep lettering peeking out with her other hand, feeling her face flush. She wasn't embarrassed of it so much as she found herself suddenly conscious that she was no longer the same unmarked girl who had stood before him so many months earlier. In more ways than one. 

“It’s good to see you, Viktor,” she said, and she really did mean it, it vibrated through her body healing an ache she hadn't realised had been there. It had been too long since she’d read one of his letters or had been able to write to him - brief, treasured moments of escapism where she felt like just a normal teenage girl basking in the flattering interest of an older, rather attractive, boy. “Why don't you come in?” she added, stepping back and trying not to let her eyes linger too long on Viktor’s own forearms, blushing for entirely different reasons. The memory of being wrapped in them as Viktor gave her her first kiss, of him holding her while she cried, and of dancing with him at Fleur and Bill’s wedding felt like a distant memory. It was nice for a moment to remember. “It’s just me, Harry and Teddy at the moment. I was making tea?”

“Teddy?” he asked, his eyes settling on the bottle that was still in her hand and widening slightly.

“He’s not… I'm not…” Hermione stuttered out, a laugh bubbling up in her at Viktor’s suddenly hesitant expression. She smiled softly at him, shoving her wand in her back pocket and reaching out to place her hand on Viktor’s forearm. “Merlin, a lot has happened, but not that. Teddy is Harry’s godson. His parents are…” Her voice dropped and her smile faded. “Well, we are hoping his mum will pull through at least.”

Viktor nodded, his eyes flicking over her face. “I am sorry, Hermione,” he said seriously and with such a depth of emotion and empathy that Hermione found herself momentarily taken aback. She lost herself in his eyes, remembering another time he’d apologised for something that wasn't his fault. 

“I vould like that tea, please, if you are still…”

Hermione squeezed his arm and pushed herself away from him, finding she’d drifted closer to Viktor than she realised. “Yes,” she said, nodding and biting her lip. “Yes, of course. Come on in, Viktor, I’ll just pop this bottle outside to Harry.”

_~*~_

When Hermione came back in she found Viktor standing stiffly at the Weasley’s kitchen table and eyeing the book Hermione had been idly reading earlier. It was one of Mrs Weasley’s romances. Not exactly Hermione’s usual style, but the books she'd packed to take with her on the Horcrux hunt had been mostly practical and she found herself just wanting something that did not make her think too much. 

Hermione coughed and reached across the table to grab the novel with the half naked man on. Glancing down at it now, she guiltily realised that he bore a bit too much resemblance to Viktor for her selection of steamy novels to seem entirely random. No wonder Ginny had been so amused, she thought. 

“Yours?” he asked with a tilt of his lips and a raised eyebrow that was entirely more suggestive than he ever used to allow himself to be with her. Viktor had always been all too aware of their age difference and the need for propriety. She guessed her visit to Bulgaria had changed that dynamic some.

“Oh shut up,” she huffed on a laugh. “It’s Molly’s if you must know, I just…”

“You vanted a distraction, yes.”

Hermione felt her cheeks heat slightly. Viktor was still smiling at her, and it was hopeful - curious - in a way that made her realise just how awkward this conversation was going to get in light of things with Ron. “Er, yes. Sort of I guess.”

Hermione shoved the book under a cardigan on one of the chairs and moved over to the stove to reheat the kettle and set up another mug. “Do you still take it black?” she asked.

“Da, please,” he replied and she heard him pulling out a chair behind her. “Is nothing wrong vith needing to forget for a bit, Hermione. Is understandable after all haff happened. Is probably good for you too.”

Hermione smiled to herself as she finished Viktor’s tea, grateful for his maturity and understanding. She used a spell to reheat hers slightly, before taking the cups over to the table and taking a seat opposite him. She cradled her cup between both her hands, elbows propped up on the table so she could breathe in the heady aroma. Viktor was silent, but she could feel the weight of his gaze on her. She thought back to when she'd visited him in Bulgaria before the war started, and wondered if things might have worked out differently had he been less hesitant to help with her request in the way she'd expected. She thought the answer was probably yes. She couldn't imagine it not changing how she felt and strengthening the connection she had with him over Ron. She was grateful to him all over again. While she cared for him and trusted he would have made her first time special regardless, in hindsight she was glad that when the time came she would get to make the decision on her own terms and be sure in her own feelings.

Surety in her own feelings was something that seemed to continue to elude her though. She was not looking forward to telling him about Ron and she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to examine why that was exactly. Seeing him again was confusing. Maybe not unsurprisingly so. 

“Is good to see you,” Viktor said quietly. “Vas... very vorried. Tried to contact you and others, but vas difficult, obviously. My family vere in hiding too.”

“You were?” Hermione asked and suddenly felt selfish that she hadn't already asked about Viktor or his family. The war had seemed to her to be a swirling maelstrom centering around her, Harry and Ron. It was easy to forget sometimes how far-reaching it was. Easy, but short-sighted and Hermione chastised herself. “I'm so sorry. I should have asked. Are your family… are they all..?”

“Is okay. Do not vorry, Hermione,” he said reaching out across the table to cup her cheek for a moment. “They are all vell. Thank you. There vas… a lot of pressure, even on the continent, to join. Dolohov, he visited me many times, my family too.” He paused and took a deep breath, closing his eyes. “Both Durmstrang and Beauxbatons vere infiltrated. Durmstrang vas very much like I hear Hogvarts vas. The children who are like you...” 

“Muggle-born,” Hermione muttered, dropping her hand from her cup to rub her arm.

“ _Da_ , Muggle-born. They vere… They did not fare vell,” he finished darkly. “Many families, like mine, who vere forced into hiding offered sanctuary to them as vell.”

“I forget how far the war reached,” Hermione said. “I didn't hear much of how it affected wizards and witches outside of Britain. We barely had news of what was happening even here, to be honest. Everything was so - controlled, processed.”

“Vas the same in many places.”

“I’m so glad you are okay,” Hermione said suddenly, urgently, her eyes flashing up to meet his.

“I feel same,” Viktor said, reaching out and catching Hermione’s hand, his thumb rubbing over her skin as he held it. “Especially after last time I saw you.”

Hermione smiled then, full and bright and so grateful he was there. She suddenly - desperately - wanted to climb into his lap and let him hold her as he had when she’d visited him in Bulgaria. Let him tuck her head beneath his chin and drown in his scent, cocooned and safe in the ridiculous amount of heat he gave off. 

It wasn't appropriate now though, not with Ron and her maybe on the precipice of... something. Instead, she turned her hand over in his and clutched his hand back just as tightly.

“Your English has improved again,” Hermione complimented, trying to lighten the mood. The difference really was noticeable, even the pronunciation of her name was almost perfect. “And I can still barely string a sentence together in Bulgarian. At least aloud.”

“Haff had more time to practice than you,” Viktor said, shrugging. “Very much so this last year.”

“I still feel like I should be trying harder,” she said. “I'm sorry. One day I intend to hold a full conversation with you in Bulgarian.”

As they continued to talk, Viktor’s eyes kept flicking to her arm, and she could see both the concern and curiosity in his looks.

“You can ask if you want,” Hermione said, her fingers gripping her tea cup just slightly too hard, eyes looking anywhere but at Viktor.

He looked up at her then, his mouth a tight line, cheeks very slightly flushed - embarrassed at being caught. He was silent though and she could feel him watching her. She swallowed and shifted on the chair, waiting for the inevitable questions, the necessity of having to try and explain everything. Again. Of reliving it.

“No,” he said. His voice was gruff and quiet, yet it still managed to startle her in the silence of the room. “No. You vill tell me ven you are ready, I am certain. Tell me how and ven you vant. I just… I needed to see you. To know the reports in our papers vere correct and you vere...” 

Viktor hesitated and Hermione could hear the words that went unsaid - _not okay_ , she was not okay. 

“Safe,” he finished instead.

“I am safe, Viktor,” she said softly, relieved. 

He smiled, warm and genuine and it lit up his face, destroying the serious scowl he wore too often. Probably even more these days. It made him look boyish again, like the eighteen year old who had smiled at her when she said yes to accompanying him to a ball, and she couldn't help smiling back, everything fleetingly lighter.

Viktor reached across the table and took Hermione’s hand in his, stroking over the lines in her palm with his calloused fingers. She watched him, but as she did a hollow ache the shape of a kiss shared in battle seemed to bust to life in her stomach and she caught herself chewing her lip. 

“I er, need to tell you something actually, Viktor,” she said reluctantly. And something in her suddenly nervous tone, or the way she couldn’t quite meet his eyes gave her away, for his smile turned down, his frown returning.

“Get feeling this is not something I vill like,” he said. 

“Uh, no. Possibly not,” she admitted sheepishly. “But I'd rather you heard it from me than one of those awful papers.”

“You actually haff met somevon this time,” he guessed and he sounded resigned. 

“Sort of.” She shrugged. “I mean I've known him for years so it's not like we've just met…”

“The Veasley boy, Ron?” Viktor guessed.

“Er, yes,” Hermione answered, embarrassed and a little surprised. “I mean we aren't actually dating, but something happened during the battle and I think he might want to – date, that is. And it was something I had - wanted,” she babbled, her eyes flicking up uncertainly to Viktor at the end.

“Vas?” questioned Viktor and when Hermione looked at him perplexed he added, “You said _vas_ and _had_ meaning in the past, yes?”

“Um, yes. I guess I did say that, didn’t I,” she said, sighing at the unconscious slip. He really was too perceptive, although that was also one of the reasons she liked talking to him so much.

“Now you are not sure is vot you vant?” he asked.

Hermione didn't nod, but she didn’t refute his inference either. And the truth was he was right, she wasn’t sure, but it felt odd to admit that to Viktor before than Ron. So she stayed silent. Viktor was quiet too, but she felt the weight of his gaze assessing her or maybe just considering. 

“Ven you came to me before the var,” he said slowly, “you said you vere not ready for relationship. Is still true? Or do you feel different now var is over.”

Hermione bit her lip, remembering the reasons she’d mentally listed to herself then. They weren't all the same, some had faded with Voldemort’s demise, but some were still relevant and there were new ones too.

Viktor misinterpreted her silence though. He smiled a little sad and rueful. “Oh perhaps is person who makes you feel different.”

Hermione looked up at him then in surprise, leaning forward across the table to catch his eyes, needing him to truly believe her next words. “No, Viktor, that's not it at all. I promise.” 

Viktor seemed to hesitate for a moment, his eyes flicking over Hermione’s face curiously, something sparking back to life within them.

“Vould be okay Hermione. I vould be sad, yes. And filled with jealousy, of course,” he added with a wink and a tilt of his lips that made Hermione’s stomach flip. “But vould accept it because I vant you to be happy.”

Hermione's mouth dropped open, her eyes wide and her chest so full of something she thought she might burst. She suddenly leaned across the table and gripped Viktor’s face in her hands, placing a kiss on his cheek. “You are too wonderful, Viktor,” she whispered, leaning into him for a moment before pulling back, finding him looking slightly dazed.

“Can say more vonderful things, if you like,” Viktor said cheekily, wiggling his eyebrows at Hermione and making her burst out in laughter.

“You are right, though,” she said quietly. “I'm still not ready, Viktor, or sure. Honestly, I feel quite confused. More so for seeing you, to be honest,” she said, blushing. Seeing Viktor had reminded her just how many feelings he stirred in her. It was far easier to forget or distance herself from them when he was reduced to just words on a page or a memory while she slept in a tent. Ron was so much more present. And, to tell the truth, she still kept expecting Viktor to lose interest in her. She wasn't quite sure why he hadn't.

Viktor smirked, and preened a bit too she thought. It made her laugh again, and her heart felt a little lighter than it had that morning.

“Am glad I visited, then,” he said with a grin. “Especially if it makes you not so sure, but also to hear you laugh as vell.” 

“It does feel good to laugh again at last,” she said, then sighed. “I still don’t know how to explain it all to Ron.”

Viktor tilted his head, the request for clarification clear.

“I was the one who kissed him,” she added guiltily, and looked away from Viktor as she said it. “It was during the battle and, well, I wasn't really thinking, adrenalin, you know?” Viktor nodded, but let her continue.

“And he'd just said something lovely and I kissed him.”

“Remind me ven I introduce you to my friends to tell them to be mean,” muttered Viktor, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh shut up.” She huffed, but there was amusement in her voice too, and she fought the desire to stick her tongue out at him. “I'm not so completely starved for kindness, that I kiss everyone who is nice to me.” 

“Shame. I vas about to compliment your beautiful smile.”

“You are really incorrigible, you know.”

Viktor grinned, in a way that made Hermione flush pleasantly even before he leaned in and said teasingly, “Only vere you are concerned.” 

She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and bit it, unable to keep the smile from reaching her cheeks or eyes.

Viktor reached out, tucked a curl behind her ear and said, “Tell me vot you vould say to him.”

“Huh?” If Hermione sounded a little breathless, Viktor was at least kind enough not to mention it. 

He smiled, sat back and crossed his arms. “You told me in past is easy to talk to me. So use me to practice vot you vant to tell Ron. Maybe then vill be easier to say second time.”

“That would be - thank you, Viktor! I think that would actually really help. There's no one I can really talk to about this without putting them in an awkward position,” Hermione said gratefully, and a little surprised he had offered. She hadn't been looking forward to talking about this with Viktor. She had expected it would be more than a little awkward, but Viktor was proving yet again just what a good friend he was, and his maturity too. She couldn't ever imagine Ron being the same if the situation was reversed. 

“Is not entirely selfless,” he admitted with a quirk of his lips and a slight shrug. 

Hermione ducked her head, but smiled. She tapped her fingers against her now empty mug and tried to gather her thoughts.

“I still have to try and find my parents,”she said quietly. “Harry and Ron, well, they didn't really understand quite how complex the magic was and I - I didn't enlighten them. I guess I should start by explaining that. Then he’ll need to understand that even if I can reverse the charm there’s the problem that I'm not sure how they are going to feel about everything. Which would be understandable of course, but I want - well, I think I'd need some time with them, you know? Just me.” She bit her lip, her fingers drawing runes on the table. “We've had so little time together since I found out I was a witch and, even without what I did, that has caused a strain between us. I'm not sure turning up with a... boyfriend, and one they kind of associate with something they resent, is a good idea.”

“You could ask him not to come vith you,” Viktor suggested and Hermione appreciated him playing devil's advocate.

“I could,” she agreed quietly. “I'm not sure he'd understand though.” It took her a few moments to continue, not quite sure of telling Viktor something that was so personal to her, Harry and Ron. “Some things happened during the war and, well, Ron seems to have taken it upon himself to do everything he can to make up for them. Making sure he's there for me through this, I think would be one of those things he felt duty bound to do, particularly if we were -” she gestured between them both “- together.”

Viktor nodded his understanding. Hermione could tell from his suddenly very rigid posture that he wanted to ask , but instead he stayed quiet, making a signal she should continue. 

“Um, there's the fact that I have to decide what to do about my education and after - Merlin, I'm so confused about careers. I know that doesn't sound like a reason, but I want to do well, and a relationship could be - distracting.” She didn't add that part of her hesitancy was how jealous she thought Ron might get if she went back to Hogwarts and he didn't. Harry and Ron were already talking about skipping out on finishing their studies if that was an option, and maybe taking the position Kingsley talked about offering them in the Auror department. He’d offered Hermione the same, or well, a position in any department she wanted really, but she just wasn't sure a Ministry career was what she wanted now. She was uncertain that was where she could make the biggest change; it seemed so tied up in bureaucracy. Finishing out her last year would give her time and council to think about her options, and she could maybe take Viktor’s sister, Ana up on her offer of correspondence too. She really wanted to talk to her again, and not just about her career which was something that had interested Hermione enormously. There were very few people that Hermione had met and instantly been able to feel relaxed with and accepted by. Ana was one of those rare exceptions. The Bulgarian witch had quickly made her feel at ease, greeting her with a hug and a warm smile and reassuring her, just as Viktor had, that she wasn't being paranoid, before drawing her into a fascinating conversation about the intricacies of the magic they'd be using to protect her.

“And I have the, er, counselling appointments Healer Pennywort referred me for, which might be… I'm just not sure how well I'll be able to cope with some of the things that might bring to the surface and a relationship.” _With Ron_ she added silently to herself, knowing that his abandonment of her and Harry during the war was sure to come up. While she understood and forgave him, she could also admit that it still affected her, as did some of the things he’d said. Though she wasn't sure she could tell him that knowing how bad he felt about it all. 

“So yes, all of that really, I guess.” She shrugged. “Plus for the last seven years I've been so concerned with helping Harry stay alive - myself and Ron too - that, and I know this sounds selfish, but I’d like some time to just be me. No demands or responsibilities to anyone else, if that makes sense.”

“Makes great deal of sense to me,” said Viktor.

“Do you think that’s enough? Reasons that is.”

“You know him better than me, Hermione,” Viktor replied, shrugging. “But if you are asking my opinion, then my answer is yes.”

Hermione breathed out, relieved.

“Of course, for me, just saying you are not ready is enough reason,” he added. “If he loves you and is vorthy of you, he should vait however long you need.”

Hermione didn’t miss Viktor’s implied, _I would_. It was clear in everything from his expression, to his posture, to his tone and it left her breathless, her eyes wide.

“I can't make you a promise, Viktor,” she said at last, her throat dry. She was still a little floored by his unspoken declaration. “I can't say for sure how long I will need or that when I am ready I won't… I already feel like I haven't been very fair to you. Or Ron for that matter.” 

Viktor thought for a moment. “You vill not like this comparison, I think, but you draw on vot you know.”

Hermione sighed and nodded. “This is going to be about Quidditch, isn't it?” she said, affecting a very put upon tone and expression that she ruined with a slight smile.

Viktor smirked and gave a shrug. “Is vot I know.”

“Go on then, lets get it over with,” she replied, rolling her eyes and trying to sound more irritated than she felt.

“In some games of quidditch you catch the snitch very quickly, in others it can take far longer. Sometimes so long you start to think you think you vill never catch it, or vorse-” Viktor’s eyebrows rose dramatically, eyes wide “- that opponent has caught it. But does not matter how long it takes, all that disappears ven you have it in your hand.” He shrugged. “I don’t need promise from you. Just vant chance to hope.”

“What about when the game is over though,” Hermione said quietly, unable to look away from Viktor’s very earnest face. 

“You are vorried I am only interested in chase, yes? Comparison is only that and is not… perfect. You are vorth far more to me than a snitch in a game. _Catching_ you vould only be beginning, not end.”

She swallowed at the intensity in his eyes, and felt her words catch in her throat.

The garden door opened at that moment, and Hermione found herself suddenly relieved for the interruption.

“Hey Hermione, where did you put the nappy bag earlier, Teddy’s done a right stin… Oh, er, hello Viktor?” Harry said, poking his head around the door and somehow managing to make his greeting into a question as he glanced between the two of them. 

Viktor stood up. “Hello, Po- Harry,” he said, looking back once to Hermione. “Is good to see you again. Has been many years, but Hermione has talked of you much in her letters.”

Hermione let out a silent sigh of relief that Viktor hadn’t tried to thank Harry for his role in ending the war. In the days following the final battle, Hermione had lost count of how many thanks Harry had received from various journalists and strangers. He'd seemed to her to grow a little more weary with each one, until finally he’d joined her avoidance of the wizarding populace, hiding at the Burrow as much as he could. Hermione thought she shouldn't be too surprised at Viktor’s tact, he'd never been too comfortable with his fame either.

“Uh, yeah, you too,” replied Harry with another look at Hermione.

“I should be going. Haff international portkey to catch at three. Captain of my team is very keen ve start practicing again now var is over.”

Harry looked slightly wistful at the mention of Quidditch. Hermione knew he missed it. 

Viktor seemed to notice too, because he suddenly said, “You should come visit Bulgaria, Harry. Haff spare rooms at my house. Could play some Quidditch vith rest of my team. Vould be good to haff another seeker to train against and vould maybe -” he paused considering Harry a moment. “- give you taste of vot professional Quidditch is like. Is enjoyable career.”

Hermione looked at Viktor, her head tilted in surprise at his insight. Harry had talked about being an auror for years, but lately Hermione had begun to think he was becoming weary of constantly fighting dark magic. She thought being an Auror might, in the end, weigh his soul down a little further that he needed. She thought it would do him good to realise there were other options.

“I, er, thanks. That actually sounds like a great idea,” Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand and smiling.

“Good. Owl me vith dates and I vill arrange vith team,” Viktor said, then grinned and added entirely too casually. “Can bring Hermione too.”

Hermione had to muffle her laugh into her hand, her eyes meeting Viktor’s playful ones. _Sneaky,_ she thought amused at the proof he wasn't being entirely altruistic.

“Ve haff very nice library you vould like and know my sister vould be happy to see you again.”

Harry mouthed a silent _again_ , at Hermione in question, before they made their goodbyes, Viktor taking Hermione’s hand and kissing it as she saw him out.

When she closed the door behind him, she leant back against it and grinned, feeling a little less disconnected than she had that morning. Her self indulgent moment was short lived however as a shout from the other room of ‘ _Oh bloody hell, it’s all up his back too,_ made her burst out laughing. 

**A.N:**   
-malka lūvitsa = Little lioness, or at least I hope so as I used google translate.  
-Exa - wow


	4. Chapter 4

**Four  
Gravity **   
_Late August 1998, Bulgaria_

The scream startled Viktor awake. His eyes flashed open, heartbeat fast as adrenaline spiked through his body. Everything was silent though, and he stared into the gloom of his bedroom trying to work out if the scream was real or just the echo of a dream.

A door creaked open and there was the soft sound of footfalls down the corridor. 

He was not unused to having other people stay in his house. He’d had two Muggle-borns staying with him during the war, but having Hermione stay again was a different thing. He felt alert and on edge in a way he only did around her. 

The footfalls stopped, but no other doors seemed to open and Viktor resigned himself to getting up and checking if all his guests were okay. 

He opened his bedroom door just as a second - definitely female - scream pierced the silence, proving he hadn't been dreaming. Glad he'd thought to grab his wand from his nightstand, he stepped into the corridor and quickly came face to face with a rather sleep-rumpled Harry Potter. Harry also had his wand drawn and was staring determinedly at the door down from Viktor’s - Hermione’s room.

Viktor frowned and stepped forward. There was the occasional moan from the room followed by a hiccuping sob.

Harry’s wand arm dropped, his shoulders slumping. “It's just another nightmare,” he said as though that was supposed to be reassuring. 

Viktor lowered his wand too, but he didn't feel reassured, quite the opposite. “She has them often?” he asked.

Harry looked up at him sadly and nodded. “We all do really.”

A redhead peeked out of the open doorway further down the corridor. “Harry?” the girl asked.

“It's okay Gin, just Hermione.” Harry gripped the door handle to Hermione’s room. “I'm going to wake her up and talk to her for a bit until the dream fades.”

Viktor held his breath for a moment, his fingers clenching as he weighed his words. “I could sit vith her,” he offered.

Harry stared at him for a moment before glancing down the corridor towards Ron’s room. When he looked back at Viktor, his eyes were slightly narrowed. Viktor had the distinct impression he was being assessed. 

The redhead stepped up to Harry, placing her hand on his arm and drawing his attention. “Hermione trusts him,” she said softly. “And it might help her to see a face she doesn't, you know, associate with all that.”

Harry looked at her for a few seconds, then nodded. Looking back at Viktor he said, “I usually make her some hot chocolate, Honeydukes or similar. I think she left some in your kitchen just in case.”

Viktor nodded, “ _Da_ , vill go make some. I haff some Dreamless Sleep too?”

Harry shook his head. “She won't take it, it's too addictive if used regularly.”

Viktor nodded, and turned to go get the hot chocolate, pausing at the last minute to turn back to Harry who was still staring uncertainly at the door. “She vill alvays be safe vith me, Harry. She is…” he hesitated for a moment trying to find the right word to encompass everything Hermione was. 

Harry tilted his head and nodded slowly. “The reason, right?” he said looking back towards the room his girlfriend had disappeared.

Viktor nodded. “ _Da._ ” 

Just as he reached the stairs, Harry spoke again, pausing in the door to his room. “I'm glad she is that for someone, Viktor. She really deserves it.”

~*~

There had been no more screams when Viktor opened Hermione’s door a couple of minutes later, two mugs of chocolate carefully balanced in one hand. Through the darkness of the room, however, he could hear Hermione whimpering in the bed. He shut the door behind him and retrieved his wand from the pocket of his pyjama bottoms so he could cast a soft Lumos.

Hermione had got the bed sheet twisted around her and it was clear she'd been tossing and turning. Viktor thought about how tired she'd looked the day before when they’d arrived, and wondered when she last got a decent night's sleep. Certainly not during the war and not before either, based on what she'd said when she had last visited. At least she’d looked like she'd been eating better. He hadn't wanted to say anything when he'd visited her at the Weasleys - his mother had always taught him never to mention anyone's weight even if his intentions were good - but she had looked so thin compared to the girl he remembered and he couldn't help wondering how bad things must have been.

He placed the mugs down as quietly as possible on the bed side table. After a moment's hesitation, he decided to slide her wand just out of reach before attempting to wake her. It felt like an invasion - especially when she was so vulnerable - to remove something so tied to their ability to defend themselves, but it also seemed prudent and sensible. He thought Hermione would agree. She was after all so very practical.

Viktor touched her shoulder with the flat of his palm, just lightly - barely there. He stroked down her arm and whispered her name, “Hermione, shhh, is okay, you are safe.” He repeated it again and again, soft strings of reassurance as he perched on the edge of the bed and combed his fingers through her hair. He kept up the soft touches, waiting to see if her breathing would slow and the whimpers cease. They didn't though, and he said her name again, slightly louder. “Hermione, you are safe. Vake up, _malka lūvitsa_.”

Hermione’s body froze for a moment. Viktor felt her go rigid under his hand and against his hip where her leg was pressed. 

He could hear her breathing, each careful slow inhalation and exhalation.

“Viktor?” she asked, her voice rough from sleep and her eyes seeking him out in the dim light.

“ _Da_. I brought you hot chocolate.”

“I woke everyone up again. Sorry,” she said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. “I usually put up a silencing charm, but I was so tired from the multiple international portkeys, I must have forgotten.”

She was only wearing a tank top - the weather in Bulgaria had been particularly warm even for August – and as a result, the scar on her arm, that he'd glimpsed the edge of back in May, was now completely visible. He couldn't help blanching at the realisation of what it said. He hadn't noticed it yesterday and supposed she must have had a charm covering it. He swallowed back the bile that had risen in his throat and looked up to catch Hermione watching him.

“Do not be sorry,” he said shrugging. “Vould rather you vake me so I can at least make you drink and help you chase dream away, than you being stuck in it. And you did not vake everyone. I think your friend Ron vas still sleeping.”

Hermione laughed. “That sounds about right. Pretty sure Ron could sleep through anything, but I guess that's normal when you grow up with six siblings, at least two of which have a predilection for blowing things up.” 

“Ah yes, can see how that vould make him less sensitive to noise,” Viktor replied, laughing too.

“So, I take it Harry told you about the hot chocolate?” Hermione asked, propping her pillows up and retrieving the mug that Viktor indicated was hers.

Viktor nodded.

“It became a bit of a ritual for us, before I went to Australia. He gets them too - the nightmares,” she said, taking a sip of the hot drink. Viktor watched her eyes fall closed and a small smile spread across her face in a moment of brief rapture. 

He swallowed and tried not to stare too creepily.

“He thought it might help,” she continued. “What with chocolate being good against Dementors. He gets them less when Ginny sleeps with him. I'm not sure how they manage to keep sneaking past Molly though.”

“How vere nightmares ven you vere in Australia?” Viktor asked tentatively. He still felt a little cautious about broaching subjects that Hermione might not be entirely ready to discuss. They hadn’t talked about her parents since she’d arrived the day before. He knew she'd left to find them towards the end of June - shortly after her two friends had woken up from their comas - because she'd sent him a letter after she'd arrived and located them. She hadn't sent another until two weeks ago and that had really just been to arrange this visit.

“It's okay, Viktor,” Hermione said gently. “I'm perfectly capable of letting you know if I don't want to talk about something. I don't mind talking about this with you. To be honest, you are always such a great listener it would probably help.”

“Am glad I can be that for you, Hermione,” he said sincerely.

“You'd better get comfy,” she said, tapping the spot on the bed beside her. 

Viktor nodded, grabbing his own mug before moving around to the other side of the bed. He’d settled himself against the pillows and had taken three or four sips of his hot chocolate by the time Hermione started talking.

“I didn't sleep much for the first week after I arrived in Australia. Probably longer than that actually. At first I was worried about not being able to find them, part of me was still worried Voldemort might have got to them.” Her voice wavered over the last bit and Viktor reached out and threaded his fingers through hers, squeezing gently.

“He didn't,” Hermione confirmed. “And they were okay. Well, you know… until they found out what I'd done at least.” She paused, and Viktor could hear her sipping her drink, but he didn't dare look at her in case he broke this spell. Instead, he put his cup down, pulled her free hand into his lap and started massaging it.

She sighed, closing her eyes for a long moment as his fingers swept over the heel of her hand, easing the tension in the muscles.

“Kingsley was able to put me in touch with one of the Australian healing institutions that had a specialist in memory charms and damage. When I'd found my parents, they helped me reverse the charm. I'm not sure I could have done it alone,” she said, and Viktor could tell it cost her a little to admit that. Her one failing was probably her pride. 

“They arranged for us to see a therapist too. My parents are going to continue to see her while I'm at school, and, well, I have the one St Mungo’s appointed for me to see.” 

“Did it help?” he asked, continuing to knead her palm.

She took a few moments to answer. “I think it will.” She sighed. “I think there were issues there already, but I know they love me. It’s just going to take time.” Hermione yawned. “Actually, I'm not sure how much sleep I got at all that whole first month. Maybe the second too. And you'd think with so little sleep, I wouldn't have had much time for dreaming, but it seemed to make it worse. Maybe because I was overtired.”

She pulled her hand from Viktor’s and he heard her shifting.

“Have you heard of something called sleep paralysis?” she asked, and Viktor could feel her eyes on him.

He shook his head, his eyes flicking down to hers. She was lying on her side facing him now and biting her lip. He turned to face her too, propping his head up with one hand.

“I'm not sure how to translate it. It's like being awake, but still in the dream as well. The dream becomes a... hallucination?” She looked at him again to see if he understood.

“I understand vot you are talking about - you see things that are not real?”

“Yes, exactly, but you believe they are. And the worst bit is you are frozen - still partially asleep and none of your limbs -” she waved her hand for emphasis. “-will do what you want, so it's like being paralysed.”

“Sounds horrible,” he said, his heart clenching at the thought of how scared she must have been. 

She nodded. “I thought just the nightmares were bad enough, but the sleep paralysis episodes when they come are even worse.” 

“Is it alvays same thing you see?” he asked tentatively.

“The same person,” she said quietly. “And it's silly really because I know she's dead, Molly killed her in the battle apparently, but I still can't stop…” 

“She is von who gave you this?” he guessed, his hand hovering over her arm.

“Bellatrix Lestrange,” Hermione whispered, and Viktor stilled. Even he had heard of her, and his blood ran cold at the memory of all the tales had heard of the psychopathic witch.

“Hermione, you do not…”

“No one really knows. Well, there's Harry and Ron - Ginny of course and a few who were there. Plus Fleur and Bill I guess. But no one else. I didn't even tell my parents. They were finding it all a bit much to take in without knowing their daughter was captured, tortured and... branded.”

Viktor didn't know what to say, he stared at the marks on her arm and tried to stop his imagination from picturing what might have happened.

“It was a dagger. Though she used Cruciatus on me too. Bill was sure at the time that it must have been cursed because my arm just didn't seem to heal as well as it should. He was right. They recovered it after the war. I think Draco of all people handed it in. Bill’s been studying it, trying to work out the exact curse so he can figure out a way to help heal it.”

Viktor swallowed. “Does it still hurt?”

“It aches sometimes,” she answered. “But it's worse when I'm dreaming. I don't know if that's psychological though.”

“You use a charm to cover it?” Viktor asked “Did not notice it yesterday.”

“When I was in Australia I got used to hiding it,” she said, shrugging. “My parents, you know. And before that when I was back in the UK - well, I didn't want the press asking.” 

She paused, running her hand over the letters. Viktor watched and saw her on some unknown floor - screaming and bleeding - and he thought about what she'd been scared of before the war, and wondered. Wondered what she might not have told him yet, or what might have happened if she hadn't been so prepared.

“I'm not ashamed of it, “she said quietly. “I survived and more than that, I helped destroy them. They thought I was worthless and my blood wasn't as good as theirs, but I'm still here and they aren't. So I'm not ashamed, I just don't want other people to see me as this victim.”

“Or to ask,” Viktor said knowingly.

“Yes, that too,” Hermione agreed. “At least right now.”

“You are incredible,” Viktor said suddenly, brushing her hair from her face and cupping her cheek. He had a desperate urge to lean in, capture her lips and somehow pour into a kiss just how amazingly strong, brave and determined he thought she actually was. He wanted so much to show her how reverently, and with how much regard he cared for her, how glad he was she had survived, because he was suddenly hit with the realisation that she'd come pretty close to not making it through this ridiculous war. Instead, he held it back and just looked at her.

“I love the way you look at me,” she said, smiling.

Viktor raised an eyebrow in question and Hermione blushed. “Oh now you haff to explain,” he said, grinning and stroking her flushed cheek, before tapping the end of her nose.

“Like I'm... I don't know - a girl.”

“You are a girl,” he said, feigning confusion. “How is that a special vay of looking at you?”

“Like I'm not just any girl, but -” she ducked her head, her face turning a deeper shade of pink “- special maybe. At least that's how it feels.”

“You are special. I look at you and see a beautiful girl who doesn't realise it. I see someone who is not scared to fight for what she thinks is right, who is not afraid to be herself even ven that is hard, who is kind and loyal and remarkable. Am not sure how else anyvon could look at you, Hermione.”

Hermione smiled a little shyly. “You are so much better at saying that.”

“Vot?”

“My name,” Hermione said. “It's nice hearing you say it, all smooth and deep. Though, I sometimes miss how you used to say it - when we first met.”

“Vas ridiculous.” Vikor snorted at the memory.

“It wasn't. It was sweet,” Hermione tried to insist, swatting Viktor’s arm where it lay between them. He caught her hand and brought it up to his lips to kiss, arching an eyebrow at her statement.

“Okay, it was a little ridiculous sometimes,” she admitted, laughing at him.

“Vant to know a secret?” he asked her, stroking his thumb over the back of her hand.

Hermione bit her lip and nodded.

“Sometimes I got your name vrong on purpose, just so you vould go into your lecture mode and try to teach me proper pronunciation.”

Hermione gasped at him, and went to pull her hand from his grip, no doubt to swat him again. He held it firm though, bringing it back to his lips and enjoying the blush it caused.

“Why,” she asked, confusion clear in her voice, and maybe a little insecurity too he thought.

“Vas very… sexy,” he said, smiling at her. “You got all bossy, hands on hips, this tone to your voice…” He wiggled his eyebrows and then laughed softly at the look of surprised outrage on her face.

She scowled at him. “You are teasing me?” she accused, eyes narrowed as she pulled her hand back.

“No, truly, I am not,” he protested, then grinned. “That tone you just used vas close to the von I vas meaning though.”

Hermione humphed and pushed at his shoulder. “I can't believe you did that,” she said, rolling onto her back so she could cross her arms, her chin tilting up adorably.

“Please do not be angry vith me,” he pleaded, shifting so that he was propped up on one arm. He fluttered his eyelashes ridiculously and Hermione laughed.

“You're incorrigible,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I don't know how I never noticed before.”

“Only vith you, little Herm-own-ninny,” Viktor replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief. 

Hermione shrieked, and suddenly he found himself flat on his back, his little lioness straddling him and tickling him without mercy.

“Where’s your Seeker reflexes now?” she taunted, pushing his vest up in an attempt to find his most ticklish spot.

“Maybe this vas part of my plan.” Viktor laughed, trying to shift away from her relentless fingers. 

Hermione was laughing with him, an adorable little crease of concentration on her forehead as her fingers slid and flicked over his skin. 

Viktor twisted and managed to hook one of his legs over hers. He wrapped his arm around Hermione’s back, his other hand cradling her head as he flipped them over so that he was looking down at her.

His intention had been retaliation, but it suddenly seemed a distant thought. Hermione was breathing heavily beneath him. Her skin was flushed and slightly shiny from perspiration, her vest askew and her hair wild. Her eyes seemed to flash at him and he didn't think he'd ever seen her looking more alive.

She looked intoxicating. She reminded him of the paintings of witches dancing naked under the moonlight, that his friends had passed around when he'd been much younger and at school. She was brimming with magic and energy that seemed to draw him in. It was hard to remember all the reasons he should be cautious.

She bit her lip again, her tongue darting out to soothe it and he felt his eyes drawn to the movement. He took a deep breath, swallowed, and she mimicked the action.

“Viktor,” she whispered, her voice a barely-there, breathy moan that he could actually feel licking at his skin.

He hadn't realised they were so close; their noses almost touching, the flutter of her eyelashes he'd swear creating an almost tangible breeze.

She brushed her nose against his - just the tip. A tiny eskimo kiss that teased and promised and made him forget every reason why this was not a great idea and he just couldn't stop himself from closing the distance and kissing her.

It was nothing like the tentative kisses they'd shared before. It was not like any kiss Viktor had ever shared. With anyone. This one was like that first breath you take after being underwater for as long as you can possibly stand. He thought maybe he'd been drowning before this kiss. It was desperate, and heady, fire racing along his skin where they touched and Hermione was pressing back against his lips with her own, just as eager as him. A little part of Viktor was sure he was dreaming. 

He didn't know what he'd been thinking before, because this was a marvellous idea.

Her tongue licked against the seam of his lips, insistently begging him for more. Soft little kitten licks that teased and made him groan. When he gave in, opening his mouth to let her deepen the kiss, he instead found his bottom lip caught between her teeth. Hermione pulled back, holding it captive for a moment, her eyes briefly opening and catching his, declaring her victory over him.

But Viktor was not so easily defeated. He threaded his hand into her hair, letting his fingers scrape softly against her scalp, delighting in the way her eyes fell closed again. He kissed her cheek, the edge of her jaw, below her ear, and trailed his other hand down her side, the backs of his fingers just barely brushing over her curves until he reached the hem of her top. When she groaned, her back arching and her body aligning against his, he caught her lip in return, sucking it gently in apology at his success.

A knock on the door broke the spell. Hermione’s eyes flashed wide in panic as she pulled away, trying to put some space between them.

“Just a heads up that you might want to use a silencing charm before you both manage to wake Ron,” Ginny’s far too cheerful voice said from the other side of the door. There was a pause, then the door handle turned and a hand waved at them through the small gap. “A locking charm probably wouldn't hurt either,” she sing-songed.

Hermione threw a pillow at the wiggling hand and the door closed. The sound of Ginny’s retreating footsteps and giggles seemed particularly loud in the silence of the room.

“I'm sorry,” Viktor said, rolling to his side and sitting up. 

“Oh no, please don't be, Viktor.” Hermione reached out and placed her hand on his arm. “It was a really lovely kiss. Far too lovely to regret,” she said earnestly and Viktor could already feel that the mood had shifted; the lines of her shoulders a little more tense, her eyes a little more hesitant - unsure. “I’m just not…”

“...Ready,” Viktor finished, brushing a curl of her hair behind her ear.

“I feel I say that to you a lot, huh,” Hermione said a little guiltily, maybe a little sad too. Viktor felt the urge to pull her in for a hug.

“Told you before, I am happy to vait,” he said softly.

Hermione opened her mouth, closed, then opened it again. He watched her eyes flickering for a moment as she gathered her thoughts. “I really do like you, Viktor. A lot. You are so easy to talk to, and patient, and kind and...”

“Am really hoping you are about to add sexy to that list, or this is sounding like you are about to let me down,” he interrupted, running his fingers through his hair nervously.

“Oh yes, definitely that too,” she said with a coy smile and Viktor felt his nerves ebb away. “But my point is that while I really like you and while part of me really wants to just, erm, you know-” 

“Date?”

“Umm, that too,” she agreed, with a deep breath and a nod. Her eyes dropped to his mouth and Viktor smirked, feeling infinitely more confident.

She shook her head, clearing her throat. “I just - I know I have all this stuff I need to sort out and I don't want to ruin our chance because I'm… you know?”

“Hermione, I know this. You explained it to me ven I visited in June.”

“Well, technically I was talking about Ron then, but…” She coughed, looked up at him and said, “Sometimes I'm scared that one day I'll realise I'm ready and you'll have moved on.”

“I am not going to move on,” he replied confidently. “Not unless you tell me you are not and never vill be interested.”

“You can't say that for sure though.” 

“You can not say I vill either,” he said, shrugging. Hermione didn't look convinced and he sighed, cut his eyes away from her for a moment, considering his possible courses of action. 

When he looked back he reached out for Hermione’s hand. When she took it, he just held it for a moment. “I von’t move on because I love you,” he said. 

“Oh,” Hermione said, the word barely more than a puff of breath.

Viktor smiled. “Do not expect you to say it back, Hermione. Do not vorry.” He tilted his head to the side, grinned. “Vell, not yet anyvay. Hope von day to convince you to fall in love vith me.”

Hermione smiled. “I think I'd like being in love with you one day, Viktor.”

“Of course you vould. Am very famous Quidditch player, you know,” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows. “Very skilled at capturing…”

“You had better not be about to make an analogy between your skill at Quidditch and your skill at… sex!” Hermione accused, throwing a pillow at Viktor and laughing, her cheeks pink.

“Never,” he denied, mock affronted. “Vas referring to your heart, of course.”

“Hmm,” was all she said in return, slanting him a suspicious look that made Viktor grin.

Hermione stretched out on her side on the bed, closing her eyes for a moment. It was hard not to let his eyes drift over her curves, the long lines of her legs in her shorts…

“Are you ogling me?” Hermione asked, opening one eye.

“Vas vondering how somevon so short has such long legs,” he replied, laughing at the glare Hermione sent him. 

“Careful or I'll throw another pillow at you,” Hermione threatened.

“You only haff two more, you vill soon run out and then vot vill you do to me?”

“Tickle you again,” Hermione said with a smile.

“Oh vell, in that case I had better go lock door and put up silencing charm.”

Hermione threw another pillow at him and Viktor caught it while laughing.

“What time is it?” she asked, yawning. 

“Half past three,” Viktor answered reluctantly after a look at his watch. “Should go, let you sleep, haff to be at training ground by nine.”

“Viktor,” Hermione said, sitting up slightly to look at him. She bit her lip in a sure sign that whatever she was about to say was making her nervous. “Would you maybe… sleep here… with me?” she asked, then added. “Just sleep.”

Viktor stared at her for a moment and thought about what she'd said about Ginny and Harry earlier, about how tired she had looked, about how she’d felt curled up in his arms all those months earlier.

He took the last pillow she'd thrown at him in his hands and placed it next to hers, lying down. He looked at her and she smiled, the lines in her forehead relaxing as she muttered a _thank you_ and shuffled closer.

Just as he was about to curl his arm over her waist, she suddenly gasped and sat up, reaching over to the bedside table to retrieve her wand. She aimed it at the door with a carefully pronounced locking charm, then threw a silencing charm up as well.

“Just in case anyone else tries to come in,” she said, blushing.

Viktor chuckled and reached out, pulling her close and cocooning her in his arms, her scent surrounding him; ink, and chocolate and home. He closed his eyes and kissed the top of her head, whispering goodnight into her hair as Hermione tilted her face up, kissing the corner of his chin. Sleep came surprisingly quickly for both of them and when he woke, well, he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so well rested.

**A.N:**   
-malka lūvitsa = Little lioness, or at least I hope so as I used google translate.


	5. Chapter 5

****

**Five  
Aligned **  
_May 1999, England_

It was May when Hermione saw Viktor next.

She had unfortunately been convinced into attending the charity ball the Ministry had decided to throw for the one year anniversary of the battle of Hogwarts.

The ball was a truly awful idea in Hermione’s opinion. Harry’s too. Even Ron who was far more comfortable in the limelight thought it ‘ _stank_ ’ - his words. He'd been the one to convince her and Harry to attend, though. Not Kingsley, though he'd tried repeatedly, but Ron.

“Look, don’t do it for the Ministry and all those bloody officials who never ruddy lifted a wand against Voldemort and his followers. Do it for Colin and his family, for Remus, for Lavender, Mad Eye, Dobby, Professor Burbage - Snape even,” Ron had said earnestly. “Do it for all of the people who can't tell the truth, because you know otherwise the Ministry is just going to be spewing their propaganda and trying to make themselves look good. And look, I promise I'll run interference all night. You won't have to deal with any of them alone.”

Ron had kind of made it his job to do that. Whenever a reporter caught them, he’d take over, fielding questions and more than once telling them to ‘ _clear off._ ’ He was their self appointed guardian, and Hermione loved him dearly for it.

“Won’t Pansy mind?” Hermione had asked. 

Ron had grinned. “She's already offered to help. Ginny too.”

Ron and Pansy had been dating for the past two months, much to everyone's surprise except their little circle. 

After their trip to Bulgaria at the end of the summer, Harry had come to the conclusion that being an Auror was no longer what he wanted. Though playing with a professional Quidditch team had been fun, he had been put off by the fans and the journalists. Instead, in a move that had surprised Hermione and yet seemed obvious, he'd taken an apprenticeship at Hogwarts to become a Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. That meant he'd had to follow Hermione back to Hogwarts to take his seventh year and of course with both of them returning, Ron had soon followed - much to his mum’s delight.

Ron and Pansy had been paired together for Defence lessons at the start of the term and their chemistry had quickly become clear. It had also been clear that the rapport between the two wasn’t exactly new. Hermione had raised her observation with Ron, only to discover it was a subject he'd already told her about. It was a stark reminder of just how insular her thoughts had turned in those early days after the war and she wondered what else she'd missed. Apparently, back when Fred had been in the hospital, Pansy had apparently turned up as a volunteer. She'd been unapologetic of course, but also white faced and keen to help - altered by the war just like so many others. 

Though Hermione had been a little suspicious of the Slytherin girl’s motives at first, she couldn't deny that she complimented Ron well. While Pansy could still be a tad snobbish and bossy - traits Hermione knew she was guilty of herself - she was loyal, confident, and demonstrative with her affections in a way that Hermione could admit that she was not and that Ron needed in a girlfriend. Hermione swore Ron had grown an extra two inches since he had started to date Pansy, becoming self-assured in a way she’d never seen him before. And ultimately, seeing Ron so happy in the relationship eased the last, heavy traces of her own guilt and probably made her acceptance a little more forthcoming. 

And that was how Hermione had found herself sequestered at an out of the way table with Pansy during the Anniversary Ball. Ron stood a short way away, his arms folded and face serious as he gave a lesson in etiquette to the journalist who had decided to try and interrupt Ginny and Harry’s only dance. 

Several high-ranking Ministry officials were sitting at a nearby table glaring at Hermione. She was doing her best to ignore them, though was secretly feeling a little smug at their obvious hatred. It was probably for the best that she had decided to opt for a different career path. While they weren't persona non grata with everyone at the Ministry, the trio had been outspoken enough that they'd made a number of enemies. It wasn't that Hermione enjoyed or had even set out to antagonise them, she just couldn't stand by and let people get away with things that were clearly wrong. She'd had to say something; so had Harry and Ron. 

“I think they may be plotting your untimely demise over there, Granger,” Pansy said, rolling her eyes over towards the four Ministry wizards.

“I'm pretty sure there are several plans already in place. I think right now they are just hoping they can make me spontaneously combust in a fit of uncontrolled magic to lessen the charges,” Hermione replied, tossing a look at the table that caused an outbreak of furious mutterings between the wizards. Hermione smiled. Just slightly, but it was enough for Pansy to notice.

“You know, I never would have guessed before that you'd get off so much on pissing off authority figures,” Pansy said, her head tilted as she studied Hermione.

Hermione’s eyes widened at Pansy and she coughed. “I don't get off on it,” she hissed, cheeks flushed. “I just - I like knowing that they didn't get away with all their lies. That we were able to hold them to account.”

Pansy muttered something about hero complexes and Gryffindors, but Hermione could tell it was said without heat. A moment later she sat up a little straighter, peering over Hermione’s shoulder. 

“When was the last time you spoke to Krum?” Pansy asked.

Hermione bit her lip, her stomach flip-flopping.

“He wrote me a letter last week to wish me luck with my exams. I haven't had a chance to reply yet,” Hermione answered, not daring to look around lest she be disappointed. Pansy was still looking past Hermione with interest.

“Hmm, though I suppose it was obvious you would attend,” Pansy murmured to herself. “Had any more dreams starring him lately?” she asked off-handedly and smirked.

Hermione flushed. She'd been roped into playing a game of wizarding truth and dare with the rest of them several weeks earlier. Not long after Ron and Pansy had started dating, funnily enough. She was pretty sure the idea had been Pansy’s, though she had no recollection of her actually suggesting it. Hermione suspected it had been Pansy’s way of checking there were no lingering feelings between her and Ron. Pansy was an excellent strategist - there was probably a secret Slytherin class in it. Unfortunately, among the several intimate personal things she was forced to confess during the game, there had also been one of the rather heated dreams she'd had about Viktor.

“I'll take that as a yes,” Pansy said, laughing. Her face darkened suddenly, mouth pulling into a thin line and Hermione’s heart sank.

“He's not alone is he?” Hermione asked, and she felt a little sick even though she knew it shouldn't have been entirely unexpected.

Pansy shook her head and looked sympathetically at Hermione. “He's coming this way,” Pansy said and though she didn't say it, the offer to help impede the meeting was there. Hermione hadn't previously associated loyalty with Slytherins, but it was something Pansy had demonstrated repeatedly. Hermione was grateful to Pansy, but Viktor was still a very dear friend and she'd be glad to see him even if her heart ached a little. 

She steeled herself and turned around.

“Ana!” she exclaimed suddenly with a bright smile, and rushed forward to embrace the woman on Viktor’s arm.

“Hermione, is so good to see you again,” Ana said, hugging her back.

“Oh, you too Ana,” Hermione replied enthusiastically. “Especially as it's under less delicate circumstances than last time.”

“I vas very glad to be able to help you and get to know you a bit,” Ana reassured. “Vas just sorry I missed you ven you visited last August.”

“So was I,” Hermione said. “But Viktor explained how busy you were with that case. I hope you got the result you wanted?”

“ _Da_ , ve did indeed, in end. Vas very pleased.”

Hermione grinned in response, genuinely pleased to see Viktor’s sister. When they'd met before the war, there had been very little time to get to know each other much, but Hermione had been fascinated by the work Ana did. Her conversations with the other woman, though brief, had given her something to think about. Hermione had written to Ana a couple of times since starting her seventh year to ask her advice on pursuing a career in the same field. She couldn't wait to talk to her again and was suddenly very glad Ron had talked her into coming. 

Viktor coughed, and when Hermione looked at him he was smirking. “Ah finally she notices me,” Viktor said, opening his arms wide for a hug. 

Hermione could hear the amusement and warmth in his voice and she couldn't resist teasing him back. “I'm sorry Viktor. I was just so pleased to see Ana, I didn't see you there. You wouldn't mind if I caught up with you later, would you? I just have so much to ask Ana.”

Ana grinned, playing along and taking Hermione’s arm with a raised eyebrow at her brother as they made to walk away.

Viktor’s eyes widened, his mouth dropping open. He looked so suddenly forlorn, but accepting, that Hermione was unable to tease him any longer. She dropped Ana’s hand and threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I'm so glad to see you,” she whispered against his ear as he wrapped his arms around her in return. She pressed her face to his neck and breathed him in. He was wearing some sort of spicy cologne that masked his natural, fresh scent. It was nice, but it wasn't the smell she’d come to associate with him and she found herself missing it a little.

“You look beautiful,” Viktor whispered, leaning back to sweep an appreciative look over her that left Hermione feeling warm all over.

She took his hands in hers and stepped back, admiring him in return. She'd barely even taken him in before, too relieved to see that the woman he was with was his sister and not a girlfriend or date. She bit her lip, smiling up at him coyly. “You look very handsome too, Mr Krum,” she said. And he really did, his silver-grey dress robes fitted him very nicely indeed and made his dark eyes look even more intense.

It was almost startling though to see him looking so formal. Over the last several months, Hermione had found she'd become rather attached to the memory of him in low slung pyjama bottoms and a vest, his hair mussed. During her visit to Bulgaria the previous summer, and after that first night when he’d woken her up from her nightmare, it had become a habit for them to sleep curled up in each other's arms. It was a memory she'd even tried to relive months later in her dorm room at Hogwarts. When sleep was elusive or her nightmares too real, pretending he was with her had been an effective form of comfort. Hermione could admit to herself that it was those nights of finally feeling relaxed and able to sleep that had put to rest her feelings for Ron. She loved him, and she had fancied him, but there was a peacefulness in being close to Viktor that she didn't feel with Ron. It was easy and they seemed to compliment each other, whereas her and Ron always seemed to take so much work even when things were going well between them. She’d been relieved when a few months later, Ron had expressed similar feelings and they'd actually got on a lot better since.

“Hello, my name's Pansy Parkinson,” Hermione heard a prim voice say behind her, just a hint of curiosity to the tone.

“Ana Krum,” Ana replied just as Hermione turned around. Pansy’s eyes were narrowed and she flicked a glance at Hermione and down to where she still held one of Viktor’s hands in hers.

“Sister?” Pansy guessed and Ana nodded. “Well, that explains the improvement in Granger’s mood,” she added, completely unsubtly and with a pointed look at Viktor. “She was quite disappointed when I mentioned your brother had company.”

“Pansy,” Hermione hissed, glaring at her. Pansy just smiled sweetly. Too sweetly and Hermione was left in no doubt of the Slytherin girl’s intentions. They might be tentative friends, but apparently Pansy still thought Hermione had the potential to be a rival. Which was ridiculous as Ron was completely smitten with her.

Viktor bent down, brushed the curls from Hermione’s ear and whispered against it, “Jealous?”

Hermione shivered, Viktor’s breath tickling against her skin and making goosebumps prickle down her arms. She turned to look at him and his lips were tilted in a smirk that somehow managed to be charming rather than annoying.

“Don't let it go to your head,” she replied, flicking the end of his slightly crooked nose.

Viktor grinned back at her, his expression full of surprised confidence and just a little mischief darkening his eyes that caused heat to pool low in her belly.

“Right, I think they should leave Harry and Gin alone now,” Ron said as he joined them, dusting his hands off and pecking Pansy on the cheek, before taking in their newly acquired company. “Oh, Krum!” Ron’s face turned disappointed.

It wasn't that Ron was still jealous of Viktor, because he really wasn't. He'd even admitted several months earlier during a heart to heart that he supposed he was actually a _pretty decent bloke_ and that he _guessed_ he did seem to genuinely care about Hermione. Hermione thought that sometimes it was just hard to completely let go of your animosity towards someone when you had held it for as long as Ron had. Viktor had actually worked pretty hard to build bridges between the two of them when they had all visited him. He had even introduced Ron to his team’s coach, which had inspired him to look into the possibility of coaching as a career option. She supposed that it was easier to be the bigger man when it was his bed she was sharing every night even if it was just to sleep. She still appreciated his effort because it showed that he recognised Ron would always be an important part of her life. 

“Veasley,” Viktor greeted. Hermione looked up at him, momentarily surprised at the happiness she could hear in his voice at Ron’s arrival. She quickly realised the source though when she followed his eyes to Ron and Pansy’s joined hands. 

She rolled her eyes at him. They'd written back and forth over the last year, talking about all kinds of things, from her classes and books they'd read, to Quidditch and his new-found interest in baking bread. Viktor had started a tradition of sending her obscure spells too, usually fairly innocuous or mundane in application, but Hermione had been fascinated by the often antiquated charm work within them. However, in all their letters Ron hadn't really come up, so she hadn't mentioned this development.

“I don't know if you remember Pansy from your time at Hogwarts,” Hermione said, introducing the other girl.

“Am sorry, only vaguely. Slytherin, yes?” Viktor said, holding out his free hand for Pansy to shake.

“Yes. I don't think we ever really talked.”

“No. Am very pleased to meet you now though,” Viktor replied and Hermione had to muffle a burst of laughter.

Pansy however had no such inclination, snorting as she said, “Oh, I bet. I can honestly say I feel the same too.”

Ron narrowed his eyes at Viktor, wrapping his arm around Pansy in a way that was quite obviously proprietary. Had that been Hermione, she knew she'd have been beyond irritated and that an argument would have likely ensued. Pansy, however, just smirked smugly and said, “I think you promised me a dance. I’m sure Krum will be able to keep the press away from Granger for a bit.”

“I think he's more likely to attract them,” muttered Hermione in return, warily eyeing a small group of reporters that were hovering several meters away, their eyes and cameras fixed on their little party. She couldn't bear to imagine what headlines they were coming up with.

“You forget my scowl, _malka lūvitsa_ ,” Viktor said, affecting the expression he'd often worn around Hogwarts in an attempt to scare away his fans. He hadn't been very successful and Hermione had been able to see why at the time - dark, mysterious and brooding had its own appeal. Of course now she knew him far better, and while still attractive and she was sure intimidating to some, his scowl only made her laugh with fondness.

“Vas not quite the reaction I vas hoping for,” Viktor complained, his mouth turning down in a pout.

Hermione had to catch herself. The urge to reach up and kiss his pout away was altogether too tempting. Her stomach swooped as she contemplated the memory of his lips and she unconsciously ran her tongue over her own. She took a step closer, flicking her eyes up to Viktor’s. All her reasons were slowly disappearing, or maybe they just didn't seem as important anymore.

“Oh ruddy hell, I can't watch this. It's almost as bad as Gin and Harry,” Ron complained, following it with the sound of him fake puking. “Save me Pans, save me,” he pleaded.

There was a _thwack_ , followed by an _ow_ and then Pansy hissed, “Let's go and dance you bloody idiot.” 

Hermione was sure he hadn't meant it to, he was just a bit obtuse at times, but Ron’s dramatic exaggeration did a fairly effective job of ruining the moment. Hermione blinked, swallowing and stepping back.

“We probably should catch up,” Hermione said, clearing her throat. “Maybe somewhere a bit more private though,” she added, cutting a glance over to the group of reporters that was still lingering and in fact edging closer. “There really should be a suitably repulsive collective noun for journalists,” she grumbled.

Viktor laughed and tilted his head to the side, pretending to ponder. “A Villainy of reporters perhaps,” he suggested. “Or maybe a Malevolence.”

“Oh yes. You're good at this. Both of those would work well,” Hermione agreed sadly, then added with a sigh, “Though so would an Anguish too.”

“Am sorry they are so fixated on you,” Viktor said, earnestly. “Being seen vith me probably does not help, _da?_ ”

“I guess it's just par for the course at this point,” Hermione said. When Viktor frowned, she added, “Sorry, muggle idiom - phrase. Kind of means normal in any situation. If they weren't interested in me because of you it would be because of Harry, or my role in the war, or -” she rolled her eyes “- because I'm Swotty Granger, or because I've been notoriously outspoken about the Ministry's role in the war.” She sighed again and then looked up at Viktor with a smile. “Of those reasons, I actually much prefer the one about being seen with you.”

Viktor grinned. “Is that so?”

“Oh yes,” she grinned back. “At least with you they'll be writing about what secrets the boring, little bookworm could possibly have in order to have not only attracted the attention of the famous Viktor Krum, but also retained it for all these years.”

“Am very sure that after seeing you in that dress or after talking to you for five minutes, no von could be left in any doubt as to vy I vould be interested in you,” Viktor replied, his tone low and voice husky.

Hermione laughed. “I'm afraid you are quite wrong there. You are rather alone, I think, in that opinion. I seem to rub an awful lot of people up the wrong way.”

Hermione glanced around suddenly, her forehead creasing in a frown. “Oh, what happened to Ana?” she asked.

Viktor looked around for a moment and then smiled. “She’s over there talking to the vitch vith purple hair.”

Hermione stretched up onto her tiptoes to see where Viktor was pointing. She was already pretty sure who Viktor was referring to; she didn't know many witches with purple hair.

“Oh!” she said in surprise when she finally located them. Tonks was leaning against one of the pillars at the edge of the room, Ana mirroring her, but the real surprise was the wide smile on Tonks’ face.

“Vat?” asked Viktor curiously.

“She's smiling. It's been so long since I saw Tonks smile at anyone but Teddy - her son, you know, the baby I and Harry were looking after when you came to the Burrow. She was always so happy - full of jokes and laughter and life, but since she lost Remus in the battle…”

Hermione watched them a little longer, her heart filling with joy when she saw Tonks actually laugh at something Ana must have said.

“Come on,” she said, turning to Viktor with a grin and taking his hand to tug him towards a doorway. “Let's go find somewhere better to talk.”

“Reporters vill no doubt write scandalous things about you dragging me from the ballroom like this, Hermione,” Viktor teased, catching up to her so he could whisper it against her ear with a salacious wink.

“They certainly will if you act like that,” Hermione laughed, pushing open the door and stepping into the corridor beyond. “But for once I find I don't really care.”

~*~

Hermione found a small unlocked meeting room a few doors down the corridor. She cast a quick insect repelling charm in case any vicious little reporters hadn't learned their lesson, then warded the room with a locking and silencing charm.

Viktor raised his eyebrow. “You are vorried about bugs?” 

“Oh,” Hermione exclaimed, surprised and a little impressed that Viktor had paid such close attention to her spell-work. “Yes, well, I don't know if you remember a reporter called Rita Skeeter who covered the Triwizard Tournament,” Hermione started to explain, perching on the edge of the meeting table.

Viktor frowned. “She vas von who wrote all those horrible stories about you, me and Harry.”

“Yes, that was her. Well, I found out later that year she was an unregistered animagus.”

“A fly?” Viktor guessed.

“Beetle actually,” Hermione corrected. “She was using it to eavesdrop for her articles.”

“Ah, I see,” he said, nodding as he pulled out a seat.

“She's a bit more careful about writing about me since I trapped her in a jar at the end of that year and, er, threatened to expose her secret. It doesn't hurt to be cautious though.”

Viktor paused, halfway way to sitting down, his mouth open and his eyes wide. “You trapped her in a jar?”

Hermione flushed but nodded. “With an unbreakable charm on it, but it was only for about a week.”

Viktor leaned back and whistled. “Thought it vas Slytherin who vere supposed to be the sneaky vons.”

“Oh trust me,” she replied, grinning. “Gryffindors are plenty sneaky when we need to be.”

“Vell, remind me to never do anything to incite your vengeful side,” he teased.

“I like to think of it more as avenging,” Hermione returned with a smile. “I’m sure you would never do anything to warrant it, Viktor.” It had been an off hand comment, but when she met Viktor’s eyes she realised just how sincerely she had meant it.

“How’s training going?” she asked. The Quidditch world cup should have been held the previous year, but in response to the war, the International Quidditch Association had decided to reschedule it. The first matches were less than a month away and Viktor had again been selected for the Bulgarian team.

“Good. I think ve have a good team this year, maybe better than last time,” Viktor replied and she listened to him smiling as he told her about his team and who they were facing in the first round. She hated listening to Ron, Harry and Ginny talking about Quidditch, but for some reason she didn't mind with Viktor. He loved it and she...

“I’ve missed you,” Hermione said suddenly, surprising herself.

Viktor looked a little startled too. His mouth opened and then closed again as he just stared at her.

“I know that sounds ridiculous because it's not like we've ever gotten to spend a lot of time together, but…” She hesitated, temporarily unsure how to explain how much had seemed to change for her during that week in Bulgaria and in the months after when she was back at Hogwarts. She took a deep breath, wrapping her arms around herself. “There was this one day, a few months after I got back to school, I had this break-through on a project I'd been working on for Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. I was so excited and all I could think about was that I wanted to tell you.”

“I remember that,” Viktor said quietly. “You wrote to me about it, vas November I think.”

“Yes, that was it,” Hermione said. “I ran straight to the Owlery and wrote you a letter before I even thought about telling anyone else. But it wasn't the same and I just wished you were there.”

Viktor didn't say anything and a second spun out into what felt like minutes and Hermione found herself ducking her head, unsure. “I'm sorry, I'm not sure why I told y-”

“I feel like that all the time,” Viktor said, interrupting her and smiling. “Venever I haff a good game or practice session, or read a book, it's you I vant to tell.

Hermione smiled back at him, sliding from the table to take the chair next to his. Her little finger brushed against Viktor’s, and she looked up at him.

“I really was so upset when Pansy said you were with someone,” she confessed. “I thought, here I finally am, almost ready, and I’ve missed my chance.”

“Almost?” Viktor questioned, searching her eyes.

Hermione looked down guiltily.

“My exams start next week, then by the time the school year’s over you'll be away for the World Cup, and I've promised my parents I'll come and stay with them for a few months to work on our relationship.” 

“Not best time for starting a relationship,” Viktor said, sighing.

“No,” Hermione agreed, looking down at where her finger was curling around his. “But I have been thinking about it a lot. Even without all that, you are tied into your contract with the Vratsa Vultures keeping you in Bulgaria most of the year... and I'd be here. It's not an ideal situation for an established relationship, let alone a new one.

Viktor sucked in a deep breath. “Hermione…” he started, cupping her cheek and she knew he was about to try and convince her they could make it work, find a way. It was clear in everything from the somber line of his mouth to the frown on his forehead that he was convinced she was about to let him down, possibly for good. She couldn't bear that so she cut him off, pressing her lips to his in a brief, but sincere kiss, that left her heart racing even though it had been quite chaste.

“This is not a goodbye, Viktor. This is a promise,” she assured him. “I feel ready to give you that now. If… if you still want it.”

Viktor suddenly pulled her back in, kissing her with an intensity that left her breathless. When he pulled back, she bit her lip, grinning at him. 

“I'm… I've not taken any of the jobs at the Ministry that they've offered me, I've applied for something else instead. Something that if I get it, I think will give us a better chance.”

“Applied?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and unable to stop smiling at her.

She grinned. “Not everyone is happy to employ me based only on my war hero status and academic reputation in the media. It’s really refreshing having to actually work for a job just like anyone else.”

“Of course you vould prefer that,” Viktor teased.

“At least I'll know I've earnt it and so will everyone else,” she replied, tilting her chin up a little. It was something that had honestly irked her about the jobs Kingsley had offered her. She knew that even if she finished her seventh year and got the best grades she could, that there would be those at the Ministry who’d think she'd only got by on her fame and connections.

“Vot job is it,” he asked.

Hermione bit her lip. “I don't want to say just yet. In case it falls through and I have to look at other options.”

“I very much doubt that vill happen,” he said confidently and Hermione couldn't help the smile that spread across her face at his certainty in her abilities.

“I’m so glad you came tonight,” she said. “I didn’t know when I'd get to see you and I wanted to tell you in person. I was hoping to try and come and catch one of your games and maybe talk about this then.”

“You should still come,” Viktor insisted. “I vill send you tickets, plus extra vons for your friends and parents.”

“You want me to take my parents to a Quidditch game?” she asked, trying to picture her very normal parents sitting in amongst hordes of excited witches and wizards.

“Vy not?” Viktor asked, shrugging. “You have similar Muggle sporting events, yes? Maybe it vill help show them ve are not so different. That there are fun things in our vorld too, not just var and bigotry.”

“Maybe,” Hermione said slowly, tilting her head in thought. “I guess perhaps if they'd been able to be more involved in this part of my life they might have felt less alienated by it all,” she conceded. “Though I'm not sure they'll think the world cup is a fun part of our world. They're both more into tennis than football which would probably be the closest Muggle equivalent, and tennis tournaments, in my experience, are rather more... sedate,” she said with a laugh.

“You know them better than me,” Viktor said. “The offer is there though and the V.I.W boxes for family are much calmer.”

Hermione was already distracted. “That's something to think about, thanks Viktor,” she said absently, pulling a notepad out of her little beaded bag and starting to note things in it. “I'm sure there's more we could be doing to integrate Muggle families. Ooh, maybe it could have additional benefits too - like improving the Muggle Studies curriculum which was is awfully outdated.” She sucked the end of her quill into her mouth, thinking. “And we could maybe develop a program to help promote friendships between Muggle-born’s parents. I never really thought about it, but it must have been difficult not having anyone else to talk to about me being a witch.”

“Hermione,” Viktor said after a few minutes.

She looked up and found Viktor watching her, his lips tilted up and his eyes soft.

“Aren't you going to ask me to dance?” he asked.

Hermione was struck by the feeling of déjà vu for a moment, before she suddenly remembered her own words to him at Fleur’s wedding and she smiled. She tucked her quill and pad back into her bag with a murmured apology and a sheepish grin, then stood up. Stepping in front of him, she dropped into a deep curtsy just like McGonagall had taught her in fourth year. Echoing her memory of Viktor’s reply she said, “Please forgive my neglect. Viktor, would you please do me honour of dancing with me again?”

Viktor grinned at her cheeky attempt to mimic him. He took her hand and stood up. “Alvays,” he said, leading her to the door. He waited for Hermione to remove the wards she'd set, before escorting her back to the ballroom and sharing several dances with her until she quite forgot just why she had ever dreaded coming.

**A.N:**  
-malka lūvitsa = Little lioness, or at least I hope so as I used google translate.


	6. Chapter 6

****

**Six  
Perihelium**   
_October 1999, Italy_

Hermione smoothed her hands over the skirt of her dress nervously. She'd enlisted Ginny and Pansy’s help to pick her gown, but had quickly tried to rescind that request during the actual excursion. While she had wanted something a bit more grown up, risqué and indecent hadn't been on her list. The first five dresses her friends had attempted to push her to try on had definitely been in the latter categories.

They had eventually taken pity on her - or maybe they had just been afraid she might crack and that they'd be in the firing line. She had been particularly on edge between her upcoming interview and wanting everything to go perfectly with Viktor. 

Ginny had taken her hands and promised her that the next one she would love. Pansy had brought it into the changing room and Hermione had completely deflated. It was a similar shade to the periwinkle blue dress she'd worn to the yule ball, but the fabric shimmered like spun fairy dust. It was simpler than her old dress, no frills - almost Grecian and absolutely perfect.

Hermione had been so grateful she'd hugged them both, and had - mostly - forgotten their earlier teasing.

She was particularly thankful for the dress now, finding the confidence boost it gave her reassuring and very much needed. Being stood on her own amidst hundreds of exquisitely dressed European Quidditch stars awaiting the start of their annual awards ceremony was a little daunting. She couldn't deny, though, that it was a relief to enjoy the anonymity that the other guests’ notoriety afforded her.

Hermione hadn't spotted Viktor yet. He didn't know she was coming, though she had double checked with his sister that morning that he was still planning to attend. Viktor was up for two awards and Hermione wanted to be there to see him collect them - she was sure he would after his amazing performance again in the World Cup. Plus he'd surprised her so many times, she thought it was time for some turnaround. She'd spent the last few days in Bulgaria, however, and it had been hard to resist visiting him and ruining her plan. Luckily, preparing for her interview at the law firm Ana worked for had kept her busy and mostly distracted. She'd been relieved when they had sent her an answer yesterday so that she would get to share her news with Viktor tonight.

“Hermione?” a familiar voice asked from behind her, and when she turned around she saw Oliver Wood with a smiling Katie Bell on his arm. She vaguely remembered Harry or Ron mentioning they were both playing for the Prides.

“Oliver, Katie! How lovely to see you,” she said, a little distracted but still pleased to spot someone she knew.

“You too,” Oliver said with a bemused look. “Though we were both a bit surprised to see you here. You always seemed to hate Quidditch.”

Katie rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “You might have been, Ol, but not all of us read only the sports section of The Prophet.”

Hermione flushed, and tried to discreetly look around, Katie’s pointed words reminding her that she was supposed to be keeping a lookout for Viktor. 

Katie reached out, placing her hand on Hermione’s arm. “He doesn't know you’re coming huh?”

Hermione shook her head. “It’s a surprise.”

“He arrived just before us. I saw him heading to the bar with some of the other members of his team.”

“Oh Katie, thank you so much,” Hermione said gratefully, beaming at her.

“Don't mention it.” Katie grinned. “You're going to knock his socks off in that dress,” she added with a low whistle. 

Hermione laughed, her cheeks a little hot. “That's definitely part of my plan,” she said, and took a step back. “Maybe I'll catch up with you both later, but I really should...” 

Katie scoffed and made a shooing gesture. “Go, go! And really don't worry about later. I'm sure we aren't part of your plan.”

But before Hermione could turn away, Oliver caught her arm. “Hermione, I was just wondering if Harry had considered going into professional Quidditch. Only we are going to be looking for a new seeker for…”

Katie rolled her eyes at Oliver again and she mouthed to Hermione ‘ _still obsessed._ ’ There was affection in her expression when she looked at him though.

“I'm sorry Oliver, I really think he's settled on teaching,”Hermione answered, and had to withhold a laugh at the crestfallen look on Oliver’s face. “But Ron’s been looking for a position as an apprentice coach, if you hear of anything.”

Finally making her escape, Hermione weaved her way through the crowd, thankful to not see any other familiar faces. She spotted Viktor standing in a small group of other wizards and witches she recognised from her visit the previous year. He was wearing dark blue robes that Hermione thought fitted his tall frame very well. She paused for a moment to admire him, watching the smile spread across his face as he laughed at something one of his team mates had said. He had a really gorgeous smile. Hermione could admit that it had made her knees a little weak the first time she’d seen it, though for a while before that she'd fancied him incapable. Viktor’s default expression was naturally a little turned down, and he had admitted to her that he'd taken to accentuating it during his time at Hogwarts in the hopes of scaring off his fan club.

She took a deep breath and crossed the floor between them, making sure to come up behind him. When one of the Vulture’s Chasers - Ivet, Hermione thought her name was - spotted her, Hermione pressed her finger to her lips and shook her head. The other girl smiled in return and pretended to look away, but Hermione could see her continuing to watch out of the corner of her eye.

Taking the last few steps, Hermione tapped Viktor’s arm and in a slightly higher than normal voice said, “Excuse me, Mr Krum. I’m such a huge fan. You're my absolute favourite Quidditch player.”

She watched Viktor’s shoulders slump. He really hated this bit about his fame. It was probably a little cruel of her to tease him so. Out of the corner of her eye she caught his friend Ivet covering her mouth to smother a laugh, and felt the suddenly curious eyes of the rest of the group turn on her.

Viktor turned around slowly, his face turned down in that trademark scowl of his that she'd grown so fond of.

And then he stopped. 

His mouth fell open, and his eyes widened in surprise.

He didn't speak for what felt like an eternity, but was probably actually only a few seconds. His eyes drifted over her repeatedly from head to toe like he thought he might be hallucinating. Hermione just stood there smiling up at him until he finally breathed out an‘ _Exa_.’

“Hello Viktor,” she said softly.

In reply, he swept her up in a hug that made the air whoosh out of her, lifting her off her feet as he crushed her against him. 

“Vot are you doing here? And vy did you not tell me you vere coming?” he asked with that heart-stopping smile of his as he set her back down. Okay, she admitted to herself, his smile could still make her knees weak. 

“I wanted to surprise you,” Hermione answered with a grin. Viktor had yet to let go of her, his hands were still on her waist and her skin tingled under the warmth of his touch even through the material of her dress. “I wanted to be here to support you too and I have a few…” She bit her lip, ducking her head briefly. “...other reasons as well. Maybe. If you are interested.”

Viktor’s eyes darkened, his hands flexing briefly where he held her. “You haff finished visit to your parents?”

Hermione nodded. “I mean I promised to visit at Christmas and er… bring you,” she said with a small smile. “But we are doing much better, I think. Maybe better than things were before, to be honest. Different, but healthier - more open.”

“And your other concern... about distance?” he asked tentatively.

Hermione smiled brightly, bouncing on her toes with excitement. “I think you know how much Ana’s work inspired me,” she said. 

Viktor nodded. 

“I applied to several law firms across Europe that she recommended might be a good fit for my ideals and an apprenticeship. I didn't want to put all my eggs into one basket, so to speak.” Hermione paused, her fingers absently tracing the binding on the edge Viktor’s robe as she tried to organise her thoughts. 

Viktor looked like he was barely breathing. “You applied to von in Bulgaria?”

Hermione ducked her head and nodded. “Ana’s, in fact. It was my only option really in Bulgaria. I did apply for one in Greece and Romania too though. I wasn't too hopeful about Ana’s. They took on an apprentice last year, so it had to be an exceptional application for them to even consider it.”

“You are exceptional,” Viktor said and it was so heartfelt, his tone and expression so full of reverence as he looked down at her, that Hermione was momentarily speechless.

“Yes, well, I'm sure not everyone thinks of me quite as highly as you do,” she said, ducking her head to hide the blush spreading over her cheeks. “But I guess I must have done okay, because I had my final interview with them a few days ago and they've offered me a place.” 

“You are moving to Bulgaria?”

“Yes, Viktor,” she said and if the smile he'd given her earlier was heart-stopping then this one could probably stop the Earth rotating - at least temporarily.

“And you vant to…” he started to ask, but Hermione interrupted him with a quick kiss to his lips.

“Yes, Viktor,” she said again, her cheeks pinking slightly. “I very much want to give us a chance.” 

He pulled her into another hug, spinning her around and causing his friends nearby to laugh good-naturedly at them.

“I start in two months,” Hermione said when Viktor set her down. “It should give me just enough time to find somewhere to live and practice my Bulgarian a bit more. I did a course while I was in Australia and obviously writing to you and Ana in it helped, but I could do with working on my pronunciation.”

“I can help vith that,” he said. “And I am sure Ana vould too.”

Hermione shifted her eyes to the side and bit her lip. “About Ana…” she started to say.

“She has already been helping you, hasn't she?” Viktor guessed. Then rolled his eyes and sighed. “That's vy she didn't vant me to visit the other night - you vere there. You could have stayed at mine.”

“I know, but I wanted to wait until I knew for sure so it would be a better surprise.”

“Is a better surprise than vinning Seeker of the year,” Viktor assured her, wrapping one of her curls around his finger and smiling softly.

“I'm fairly sure you are going to win that too. From everything I have read and heard it won't be much of a surprise either.” Hermione laughed. 

“Viktor,” a short, but burly wizard interrupted, clapping a hand onto Viktor’s shoulder. Hermione vaguely recognised him as one of the Vulture’s Beaters. He nodded at Hermione, tossing her a wink, then in Bulgarian said, “They have opened the doors, are you coming?”

Hermione looked across to where people were starting to filter into the large function room.

“ _Da_ ,” Viktor replied, and he stepped back and offered Hermione his arm. “Vould you do me the honour of accompanying me, Hermione? See if I can vin anything else this evening.” 

“Oh you won me now, did you?” Hermione teased.

Viktor laughed and held up his hands. “Poor vord choice, my apologies. Perhaps earn vould be better, hmm?” His eyes darkened mischievously and he reached out to curl a hand around Hermione's hip, pulling her closer. “Hopefully I can continue to earn your regard,” he said, his voice low and full of promise. 

Hermione swallowed, flicking her eyes to Viktor’s lips and unconsciously wetting her own.

“Viktor, come on,” came a shout in Bulgarian from across the room.

Viktor smiled and Hermione returned it. “Later,” he said, brushing a kiss across her knuckles and leading her towards the doorway.

“Viktor,” Hermione said, pulling him to a stop and looking up at him. “You may not have won me, but I really feel like I have won you. I definitely don't feel I have done anything to earn you.”

Viktor's eyes were soft as he caught her hip, pulling her closer. The fingers of his other hand combed gently through the hair at her temple, sweeping it away from her face. He shook his head, his gaze moving from her lips up to meet her eyes and Hermione couldn't mistake the look of adoration on his face. She felt her breath catch. “You didn't need to,” he said. “Being yourself vas enough.”

~*~

“Haff I told you yet how beautiful you look?” Viktor asked as they danced slowly together.

“Only once or twice,” she replied with a small laugh. “Honestly Viktor, you’ll give me quite the ego.”

The awards had finished being presented over an hour ago, the tables magically moved back to make room for a dance floor. Viktor had walked away with two; Seeker of the Year and Quidditch Player of the Year. The Bulgarian national team had also won Team of the Year, which had been pretty widely anticipated. Hermione had stood and cheered loudly with Viktor’s friends as he'd accepted the awards, then blushed scarlet when he’d swept her up in a kiss upon returning.

It wasn't just Viktor’s newly found freedom to shower her with kisses that had her cheeks heating. Viktor’s hands had been a constant presence on her body the whole evening. He didn't seem to be able to refrain from touching her - even for a moment. She had been half convinced he would pull her up onto the stage with him when his name was announced just so he could continue. He was constantly holding her hand, cupping her hip, touching her hair, face, waist. Even though almost every touch had been entirely appropriate and modest, Hermione’s entire body felt on edge and aware. Now he was dancing with her, it was even worse... or better, maybe - the strong, lean lines of his body pressed against hers, his scent all around her, his voice a vibrating hum that seemed to reverberate through her body and pool in her core.

Hermione swore she might go mad.

“I like that you left your hair more natural,” he said, curling a strand of it around his finger before nuzzling his nose into it, his cheek pressed to hers momentarily. “You looked beautiful at the Yule Ball, but suits you more like this, I think. Vild and untamable and you.”

He pulled back up to his full height, looking down and smiling reverently at her. She was certain no one else had ever looked at her like that. It was a heady feeling. She was sure everyone deserved to be looked at that way at least once.

It was also the final straw. 

Hermione took a deep breath and resisted the urge to look around them and see if anyone was watching. She pushed up onto her tiptoes, bracing herself with one of her hands against Viktor’s chest while the other settled on his shoulder.

Viktor quirked his lips up at the side, giving her a curious half smile, that she returned for a moment before leaning in. She brushed a kiss against the hollow of Viktor’s neck, then below his ear. His hands flexed and tightened where he still held her as though they were dancing, but their feet had long since fallen still - their bodies lured by a different beat than that of the orchestra. 

Hermione closed her eyes and breathed him in, his scent so familiar by now - like the air after a storm, fresh and earthy all at once. He smelt like safety and happiness and understanding. Smiling against his skin, she stretched up a few more inches until her lips were grazing the shell of his ear. Her tongue flicked out to wet her lips, involuntarily catching against his lobe and she felt him shudder, mumbling her name in a low, surprised groan, his fingers momentarily digging into her hip. She grinned, suddenly surer than she’d ever felt, all hesitation falling away because she knew this was just right. She whispered into his ear then, a hot breath that whooshed out of her as she said, “Take me home, Viktor.”

Viktor pulled back and looked at her seriously and, she fancied, with a bright spark of hope and heat shining in his eyes.

She laughed softly, her hand coming up to cup his cheek.“You've been endlessly patient, but I find I no longer am. Take me home, Viktor. Please.”

He held her gaze for a moment, assessing. He didn't ask if she was sure. They knew each other well enough for him to be confident that she was capable of knowing her own mind. Maybe he was just searching for some sort of reassurance that this was all real. Whatever he was looking for, he obviously found it, for in the next moment Viktor’s hand had slipped to the small of her back as he suddenly pulled her against him, kissing her, and it was urgent and full of joy and perfect.

Hermione pressed herself against him, propriety forgotten temporarily along with her surroundings. She opened her mouth against Viktor’s, her tongue licking over his lower lip begging him to join her in her abandonment of decorum. 

A wolf whistle from somewhere nearby followed by a shout of something in Bulgarian, broke the spell. 

Viktor pulled back, scowling over her shoulder at someone. “ _Mlūkni_ Anton,” Viktor growled while Hermione buried her face in his shoulder and laughed.

~*~

They had to take a prearranged Portkey back to Vulture’s stadium in Bulgaria, before they could Apparate back to Viktor’s house. After getting her bearings when they landed in the middle of the Quidditch pitch, Hermione made the mistake of looking up at Viktor.

She swallowed at the look in his eyes. Obtaining the Portkey had required a little more distance between them and, as a result, it had provided her a temporary reprieve to the pool of need that had been growing in her all evening. It suddenly seemed to snap back into existence as she stared up at him. 

“Vill you allow me to indulge a little fantasy,” Viktor asked, taking a step closer.

Hermione nodded, smiling curiously. 

“Sometimes ven ve vin - ven it is me capturing the snitch that closes the game for us, I imagine you running onto the pitch to congratulate me as I land,” he said, smirking down at her. His hand grazed her shoulder, the tips of his fingers running down her sensitive underarm and setting her whole body on edge once more. 

“Viktor,” she said breathily.

“You are cold?” he asked instead, releasing her arm to undo the button on his cloak.

Hermione laughed. “I am anything but cold, Viktor,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck and surging up to kiss him, whispering her congratulations against his lips.

They stood like that for several long minutes, their lips moving in a rhythm that echoed their earlier dancing, hands roaming and pushing the need in Hermione ever higher.

Her fingers found the clasp of Viktor’s cloak and she flicked it undone. “I can think of another use for your cloak,” she said, looking up at Viktor with a coy smile, and then down at the grass of the Quidditch pitch.

Viktor groaned. “You are minx,” he said. “Vould never be able to concentrate on game here again.”

Hermione laughed. 

“Also, it is our first time, your first time,” Viktor said, pulling her closer and tucking his cloak around her shoulders. “Ve haff vaited too long, Hermione, for it to be a quick romp on the grass vhile ve vorry about my teammates activating their portkeys. I vant you in my bed vhere ve can take our time.”

“Consider me convinced,” Hermione said, running a hand over the scruff on his jaw and flushing at the image Viktor’s words conjured. “That sounds marvellous to me.”

~*~

Hermione waited until Viktor had finished locking and warding the door, before she stepped up to him, backing him up against the wall in his hallway. He grinned down at her, arching his eyebrow in challenge and she bit her bottom lip.

“I've thought about this a lot,” she said, running her hands down his chest, hesitating over the buttons of his dress shirt.

Viktor grinned, catching her hips and pulling her closer. “You are velcome to share any fantasies I could help you fulfill.”

Hermione blushed. “They are probably pretty dull, to be honest,” Hermione she said, ducking her head. “It's not like I have a lot of experience to base them on… except Molly’s stack of romance books.”

“Vould not be dull, because it vould be you and me,” he said, brushing his hands up over her sides, the silk of her dress kissing her skin under his fingers. “It's all going to be amazing.”

“Even the awkward moments where I don't know what to do?” Hermione asked.

“Especially those,” Viktor said. “Vill be like ven you first started learning magic. Sometimes vill just be instinct, sometimes we vill make mistakes - be awkvard - but ve vill learn and get better together.”

“I like learning.” Hermione grinned, finally thumbing his top button undone and leaning in to kiss the hollow of his throat.

Viktor rolled his eyes fondly. “I know. Vill even set you tests if you vant.”

Hermione’s eyes lit up and she laughed. “Can I test you too?” she asked, undoing two more buttons and trailing kisses down his sternum.

“Definitely,” he replied, threading his fingers into her hair and pulling her up for a kiss.

Hermione had kissed Ron a couple of times and it had been nice. A little awkward, she supposed, once they'd got past that heated moment they'd had during the battle - adrenaline pumping through their veins and making the details rose tinted and unimportant. There had been that one kiss with Cormac too which hadn't even been ‘ _nice’_. He'd been too handsy and too fast and Hermione had ended up hexing him and chalking the whole bloody evening up to a really awful, hormone driven mistake she swore she'd never be stupid enough to repeat.

Every one of Viktor’s kisses seemed to leave the few others she'd had for dust. Even their first kiss had seemed to shine brighter than any of the others. They had been sitting on some steps after she'd fled the Yule Ball and he'd been cupping her cheek and drying her tears on a transfigured hanky. Hermione thought she’d been in the middle of a rant about Ron’s ineptitude when Viktor had leaned in and swept her hair from her face, catching her eyes for a moment before brushing an oh, so chaste kiss over her lips. It was such a nothing kiss in comparison to some, but it had left Hermione spinning; Ron’s cruel words and her own anger temporarily waylaid by the new awareness spreading through her.

This kiss started with an echo of their first, just a brush of lips and then Viktor nuzzled his nose against hers. It was so sweet, so tender and Hermione’s body thrummed with awareness once more, though this time, it was spiked with a prickly thread of anticipation that set her nerves alight. 

She licked along the seam of his lips, begging entry, and when he granted it she pressed up on her tiptoes to get closer, feeling an urgency low in her belly to be as close to him as she could. She tried her best to communicate it with every button of his shirt that she undid, hastily pulling his shirt tails from his slacks so that she could conscientiously learn the lines of his chest for the first time, cataloguing all the spots that made him moan and shiver.

His hands whispered _I need you_ , spelling it out as they brushed over her skin, pulled her closer, held her tighter. His fingertips on her hips, against her scalp, over her sides composed symphonies about their history, how long they'd waited, and his joy they were finally here. The palm on the small on her back reminded her it was not a race, that she was cherished and that he'd got her even while his lips were contradicting him and entreating her for _more please, more, I love you_. 

She could feel the length of him against her abdomen where she was pressed against him and it made her squirm, wet heat pooling between her legs at the idea of him.

She arched her back, rolling her hips and tentatively sliding a hand between them to press over him.

Viktor groaned, hissing her name as he thrust into her hand. His head fell against her shoulder for a moment before he looked up at her. “Not yet,” he said, his voice rough. “Haff vaited too long and I need to make sure you von’t regret this.”

“I’m not going to regret this, Viktor,” Hermione replied with certainty, cupping his cheek and smiling.

Viktor smiled back, turning his head to kiss her palm. “But I need to be sure; need you to know just how committed I am to ensuring your complete and utter satisfaction.” His words were a deep vibration against her skin that seemed to roll through her body and make her legs weak.

“Oh, okay then,” Hermione replied, unable to withhold a little whimper.

He turned them around so that it was Hermione’s back against the wall, watching her face carefully as he started to slowly hike up the skirt of her dress. 

Hermione bit her lip and nodded. Her hands found his forearms. She felt sure she might fall apart just from the feel of the fabric sliding up and the look in his eyes. He bunched the folds into one hand and lifted one of her hands from his arm, placing it over the balled up material with a grin. She had a moment to appreciate the sight of his bare chest, the trail of fine black hair that led down and then he was kissing her again. This time though,his lips moved quickly from her mouth to slide down over her neck, trailing pledges across the swell of her cleavage. He sucked her nipple through the fabric of the dress, the wet material only exaggerating and adding to the sensation. Hermione lent her head back against the wall, fisting her free hand in his short locks and moaning her approval.

He didn't stop, switching to her other breast until she wasn't sure she could take anymore. The temptation to push him away so she could rid herself of the material preventing her from feeling the heat of his mouth directly on her skin, warred with her reluctance to be parted from him even for a moment. The decision was taken out of her hands as Viktor abandoned her nipple and his mouth slid lower, kissing over the curve of her stomach as he dropped to kneel before her, his fingers coaxing her knickers down her legs as he went. Hermione looked down just as he was lifting her leg, pressing a kiss to her ankle before hooking it over his shoulder.

She chewed her lip, nervous and excited all at once. His breath was a teasing caress against her folds as he just looked at her, not touching and it wasn't enough. She murmured his name and _please_ and _more, Viktor, gods I need -_ and suddenly he was leaning in, spreading her open and kissing her in a new way. 

She had thought she might feel embarrassed when she’d imagined this in the past. And while yes, she did feel a little self conscious, the fresh sense of awareness as his tongue lapped - almost too gently - at her folds seemed to squash any remaining unease, instead licking into life a new kind of tension that made her toes curl.

His tongue flicked up over her clit and the small bundle of nerves seemed to explode out for a second, spreading sensation with it before contracting in. She whimpered, her free hand trying to press him closer.

He did it again and this time she managed to keep her eyes open and meet his - hooded and hungry - as he drank in her reaction.

Hermione stumbled, floored by the connection she felt to Viktor in that moment. “Viktor I-” she tried to say while his hands steadied her hips, keeping her up.

“Is okay. I haff you,” he murmured. His voice vibrated against her centre and Hermione whined, needing so much more, her body clenching down but feeling too empty. 

Viktor seemed to read her thoughts or maybe she’d said it aloud, because he slid a finger along her folds before pushing it inside. Hermione gasped, leaning her head back again and pressing her hips forward, trying to get him deeper. He crooked his finger, brushing over a spot inside her that felt like too much and not enough all at once.

“Viktor!” she pleaded.

“Tell me if you don't like something,” he said and waited for her to nod before adding with a wink and a saucy grin, “Be as bossy as you vant. Remember is very sexy.”

Hermione only had a moment to glare at him before his mouth was on her again. His tongue was no longer tentative; licking and swirling and curling to push just inside her before pulling back and starting the delicious torment all over again. Never bestowing more than the briefest of touches to that small bundle of nerves that seemed to be throbbing and begging all on it's own, winding the need inside her to new heights. 

Hermione clenched her fingers in his hair and tried to remember to offer encouragements, but it was hard when her brain seemed to have become unable to multitask. Her other senses seemed to have faded out, her whole body focusing in on the sensations Viktor was pulling from her. 

She didn't think she could take much more.

“You are so beautiful like this. _Bez zadrūzhki_ ,” he praised before finally - finally - sucking her clit into his mouth and pulling and pressing and flicking it firmly until every muscle in her body had tightened impossibly - fingers and toes clenched, just waiting for the moment when it would all snap. 

“Viktor,” she gasped out.

He hummed against her and she broke, intense waves of pleasure shuddering through her right down to her toes and breaking the tension that had built up within her, reminding her exactly why it was called release.

He went to pull away, but she panicked and held him to her, shaking her head. He thankfully got the picture, gentling his touch, but slowing her descent with licks and kisses, covering her clenched hand with his and easing her fingers loose.

When she finished shuddering, she could feel tears at the corners of her eyes from how tightly she had squeezed them. Her legs were still shaking and it took a moment for her to be able to focus on Viktor. He was standing in front of her; holding her up with his hands on her waist and a pleased smile on his lips that managed to come off as mostly awed and only a bit smug. 

She cupped his cheek and managed a shaky smile back, not quite able to form words just yet. Instead, she leant her forehead against his and took several slow breaths in and out.

“That was…” she started eventually, still a little breathless, her brain foggy with her orgasm and emotions.

“Good?” Viktor teased.

She shook her head. “Better. Amazing,” she replied. “But there is a problem.”

Vikor frowned, worried. “Did I hurt you?”

Warmth bloomed in Hermione’s chest at his concern. “No, Viktor, not at all,” she reassured, kissing him quickly. “It's just, I think I was promised complete and utter satisfaction, and well, after that, I think we may need to relocate to a bed to allow you to fulfil that mission.”

“You aren't satisfied already?” He laughed, nuzzling her neck and peppering the skin there with tiny butterfly kisses. “Hmm... clearly I need more practice.”

Hermione hummed, her eyes falling closed at the thought of helping Viktor practice. “I'm very willing to help you study, but your ah-” she coughed, flushing with heat “-abilities definitely aren't the problem here.”

Viktor smirked and raised his eyebrow at her.

“I uh, that was a wonderful first time doing…” She hesitated, unable to quite find a word she liked. “...That! It's just that I have a list of other firsts I'd like to explore with you.”

Viktor grinned and suddenly stepped back, scooping her up. “I think that can be arranged.” He grinned, turning to the stairs and carrying her up them, whispering promises the whole way.

~*~

“See, I always knew you would make my first time smashing,” Hermione said when she returned from the bathroom.

Viktor laughed, pulling back the sheet for her. “Am glad I could live up to your expectations.”

Hermione slid his shirt off and climbed back in, cuddling into Viktor’s side. “I’m pretty sure you exceeded them,” she said, grinning. She trailed her fingers through the dark hairs on his chest, absently drawing some of her favourite runes across his skin, basking in the easy closeness between them as she traced a sigil for Andromeda across his ribs. She let herself remember the moment he'd pushed inside her; the way it had felt to be so close to him in such an intimate way. The look in his eyes had made her feel like she was his sun; his hand on her hip teaching her how they could move together until it felt like they were revolving around each other in perfect synchronicity. 

In truth, it had been more than just _smashing_.

“I'm sorry it took me so long,” she said quietly, breaking the silence that had fallen between them.

“Don't be,” Viktor reassured, combing his fingers through Hermione’s hair. His voice sounded thick and Hermione wondered if he'd been on the edge of dozing. 

“But you’ve seemed so sure for so long,” she complained and Viktor laughed.

“Vell, there vas fact I did not haff a megalomaniac trying to kill me or my friends,” he half joked in reply, then sighed. “I am three years older than you though, and...” He coughed, his expression a little bashful. “A good deal more vorldly.” He shrugged.

“How worldly?” Hermione asked suddenly, sitting up. She knew it shouldn't be important, and it wasn’t exactly. While she'd always known he'd been far more experienced, a thread of jealousy and uncertainty had meant she hadn’t really let herself think too much about the details. Tangled up naked in his bed, her body still slightly achy from their earlier activities, made her insecurity feel less immediate and she found her curiosity winning out.

“Did not sleep around, if that is vot you are vorried about. Vas alvays careful too,” Viktor said, tugging her hand to pull her back into his arms. “But I had dated a few vitches before you. And there vere alvays plenty of others interested after I got signed. Even if I did not return their interest it vas – educational. Vas enough to know you vere different, that how I felt about you vas very different.”

“Oh!

Viktor stroked a lock of her hair from her face, curling it around his finger. “You eclipsed all others,” he said softly. “Even at fifteen, vith ink stains on your cheek and a quill in your hair. Even ven I knew you vere far too young to feel the same. That vas vy I never minded vaiting, Hermione. I alvays expected to haff to vait for you.” 

Hermione sucked in a breath, her eyes were absolutely not watering slightly.

“So, you see -” Viktor continued gently, his fingers stroking over her cheek “- it is not something you should ever be sorry about, because I alvays vanted you to vait until you vere ready so ve haff far better chance of this vorking long term.”

“How do you know we will work out now,” Hermione teased with a soft smile, still a little floored. 

“Do not underestimate my powers of persuasion, _malka lūvitsa_ ,” Viktor scolded, tapping the end of Hermione’s nose with a smirk. “I only had use of half my skills to persuade you to give me this chance. Just think how persuasive I vill be now I have my full skill set available.” Viktor wiggled his dark eyebrows suggestively.

Hermione laughed. “As excellent as I'm sure the sex will continue to be, do you really think I could be convinced by something as superficial as good sex?”

“Can promise you I vill never let the sex between us feel superficial,” Viktor said, and while he was grinning as he said it, the words were heavy with his sincerity.

Hermione couldn't help the flutter of heat that swept through her at the look in his eyes and the depth of emotion within them. She leaned forward, tilting her head as if she were going to kiss him, but pausing at the last minute, her lips barely a hair's breadth from Viktor’s. “Mmm,” she hummed, kissing the corner of his mouth. Her eyes swept up to his and she breathed in as he exhaled. “I’ll concede to you on that. I’m not sure superficial would be possible.”

Viktor only had a minute to bask in his victory because Hermione closed the distance between them. She sealed her lips over his in a heated kiss that left her heart racing and her mind wondering about Viktor’s recovery time. She had only mere moments to contemplate it though before Viktor rolled her onto her back. His lips never even left hers, not even for a second, relentless in their cajoling until she was too distracted to even realise he had stolen control of the kiss. She hooked one of her legs over his and he groaned into her mouth, pressing the hardening length of his cock against her hip and answering her unspoken question. Hermione moaned, shifting her hips, trying to get a better angle, trying to get him to…

He broke the kiss, pulling back and smirking down at her. 

“Viktor,” Hermione pleaded. 

His fingers trailed down her torso - torturously slow - grazing the curve of her breast, rolling over her nipple, sliding over her ribs and lower. “See, first I caught your mind, now I intend to vork on ensnaring your body-”

“Oh, really, and how will you do that,” Hermione goaded, interrupting him and raising her eyebrows in challenge. Viktor’s returning grin should have probably been illegal, she thought.

“Think you are a consummate student and that you vill enjoy having a partner who is as devoted as you to very thorough research, practice and instruction, Hermy-own.”

Hermione laughed, their conversation from the previous summer and Viktor’s confession springing to her mind. “Oh well, when you put it like that…” Hermione said, her eyes still sparkling with amusement and a little more interest than she was ready to admit. She lifted her hips, rolling them against him and causing his eyes to darken impossibly further.

“Plus, if you stay I promise to build you your own library and help you christen it,” he added, his deft fingers finally sliding between her legs.

Hermione moaned, as his fingers curled inside her, pressing against the spot he’d found earlier. She closed her eyes as he spun the world out from under her, unable to stop herself from imagining Viktor pressing her into a bookcase, the feel of the spines against her back while he... 

“Oh Merlin,” she gasped, her fingers digging into his back and her toes literally curling like they too were trying to hang on.

His lips were on her neck, teasing the sensitive patch of skin below her ear, and his thumb was rubbing circles over her clit in the way she'd shown him she preferred. He was a quick study and she was sure it wouldn't take much more. 

It didn't. 

He lifted his mouth from her neck, a rush of warm air blowing over the shell of her ear, edging her closer still. But the thing that pushed her tumbling over the edge was the conjured image of his whispered fantasy of her riding him in an armchair in her promised library.

She gasped, her back arching as her orgasm swept over her and she lost herself to the sensations.

“You are way too good at this,” she stuttered finally several moments later, still slightly breathless, the waves of her orgasm still lapping at her nerves.

She took a few deep breaths and when she opened her eyes and looked up at him, she was unsurprised at the smug look on Viktor’s face. It was well earned, she supposed. “And what will you do when you have my mind and body besotted with you?” she asked.

“Vill try to steal your heart as you did mine.”

Hermione reached up and cupped Viktor’s cheek. “I think it may already be yours.”

**A.N:**   
-malka lūvitsa = Little lioness, or at least I hope so as I used google translate.  
-Exa - wow  
-Mlūkni - shut up


	7. Chapter 7

****

**Epilogue  
Three years later, Bulgaria**

_The universe is  
In your bones,   
The stars in your   
Soul; it’s never  
Really the_

_End._

_  
David Jones_

Hermione packed the last of the books into the box and shrank it with her wand before adding it to the moving crate. She dusted her hands off, perched herself on the edge of her desk and looked around the mostly empty room. It was more than a little sad to see the library that she and Viktor had created together in such a desolate state. While Viktor may have promised to build her one, he had also been aware how pernickety she could be, especially about her books. So, it had become a joint project, and it had become their library rather than just hers, because Viktor was rather fond of reading too - though he preferred fiction.

While they'd decided to leave some of the furniture in Bulgaria for now, the library was coming with them in its entirety. Hermione just couldn't bear to leave it behind. She planned to rebuild it as close as possible to this in their new home, knowing she would draw some comfort from the familiarity of her favourite space. She still felt particularly sentimental about the room, however, and it was hard to take the final steps in packing it up. They had shared so many memories within its walls. 

Those memories were one of the reasons they had decided not to sell Viktor’s cottage. It would also give them somewhere to stay when Viktor was no doubt drafted for the World Cup team again or when they came back to see Viktor’s parents. Although with Ana moving to Britain too, everyone was placing bets on how long it would be before _mama_ and _tatko_ Krum followed. 

When Viktor and Hermione had first mentioned they were considering moving, Ana had been quick to suggest the possibility of her moving to England too, and her and Hermione starting up their own law firm together. It had certainly held more allure for Hermione than the prospect of having to find another company who would let her take the kind of cases she wanted to. Plus Hermione loved working with Viktor’s older sister; she felt a kindredness to Ana that she hadn't really experienced before. She had been rather eager to agree. 

Ana’s interest in the move had been entirely unsurprising. Hermione and Viktor were both well aware of the developing friendship that had sprung up between Ana and a certain bright-haired Auror. Tonks, it seemed, was quite a draw. Hermione had been half expecting Ana to break her own news about moving before them.

For Hermione and Viktor though, the decision had a number of contributing factors, the first of which had been Hermione’s parents. They had called six months earlier to say they missed their friends and were considering moving back. Hermione’s aunt was ill as well and she knew her mum had been regretting they were not closer. Getting the time to visit across international borders had proven harder and harder as Hermione’s workload had increased. The idea of being close enough for shorter visits had been more than a little appealing. Not least because Hermione liked the idea of having her parents closer when she and Viktor eventually decided to start their own family. That was a few years off yet, but Hermione liked the idea more than she’d thought she would and she knew Viktor was keen. Still, it would be good to settle and get a business up and running before starting all of that. In the meantime, they could practice on her new little goddaughter or son. Harry had owled just a month ago to tell her Ginny was expecting and to ask her to be godmother. So despite her current reservations about packing, she knew it was the right decision, and she really was excited about the new challenges her business with Ana could bring and being closer to her old friends. 

Viktor was excited, too. He’d managed to negotiate a rather good transfer deal to the Chudley Cannons. Shocking everyone, the Cannons seemed to have regained their former glory days over the past two seasons, ending the most recent one second from the top. Fans were attributing the success to the Cannons’ young new coach, one Ronald Weasley, and Hermione couldn't deny that Ron had definitely found his niche. She suspected it helped that he was so committed to seeing the team he'd loved since a young boy do well. Hermione had barely spoken to him recently, though. Ron was far more keen to talk to Viktor these days. Thanks to the recent Quidditch deal, Ron seemed to have let go of any of the lingering animosity he felt towards her fiancé, far too excited to have one of the best Seekers in the world playing for his team. 

_Fiancé,_ Hermione though with a laugh. It still seemed a little surreal to think of him as that, even though he'd asked her almost eight months ago now.

He'd even gone to visit her parents first. Hermione didn't think anyone even did that anymore, but apparently Viktor did. Maybe it was a pureblood thing, or maybe it was just a _Viktor_ thing.

Her mum had told her all about it when she’d called to tell them her news. She’d been practically swooning as she told her daughter the story, clearly - and unsurprisingly - completely charmed by Viktor. By the end of the tale, Hermione had to confess she was swooning a little too.

Viktor had taken an international Portkey out to Australia, telling her he had to go to Luxembourg to promote a broom for his sponsors. Hermione should have known something was up; Viktor could be ridiculously sneaky, but he was an awful liar. At least to her. She had been busy with a new case she'd been given the lead on, and had obviously been too distracted to notice his odd behaviour.

_“Mr and Mrs Granger,” Viktor said formally as he sat in the garden of her parents’ house. “I love your daughter very much, I have for a very long time. She is the most…”_

_“Viktor,” Hermione’s dad said, interrupting Viktor and placing a hand on his knee. “Your feelings and regard for Hermione might as well be written in the stars. They are very clear to everyone who sees the two of you together. You're here to ask our permission to marry her?”_

_“No,” Viktor replied, with a slight - fond - smile. “Hermione is her own woman. I know that as vell as you. Am sure if I vere to ask anyvon’s permission but hers, then I vould be in for a very stern lecture from her on misogyny, the patriarchy and how it vas deeply disrespectful to her.”_

_Hermione’s dad leaned back, smiling and clearly impressed. “That does sound about right,” he'd agreed, and Viktor nodded._

_“But then, If that's not your reason for coming to see us, what is it?” Mrs Granger asked curiously._

_“You've been left out of a lot of Hermione’s life since she found out she vas a vitch,” Viktor said carefully. “Hermione’s relationship vith you means a great deal to her. I did not vant you to feel left out of this.”_

_Hermione's mum burst into tears at that point, jumping up and pulling Viktor into a hug, babbling about how glad she was that their daughter had met such a lovely, thoughtful young man._

_When she finally let him go, sniffing and wiping at her eyes, Viktor said, “I vas hoping you vould maybe like to help me pick out a ring for her vhile I vas here. I haff been reading into the meaning of different gemstones and haff a few ideas, but -” Hermione’s mum cut him off again with another hug, her dad smiling his approval at him from over her shoulder._

Her parents had helped Viktor pick out a simple platinum band, which the wizarding jeweller on his request had adorned with a modest sapphire in the centre and a small ruby on either side.

Hermione glanced down at it, smiling fondly. It was simple and understated and when he'd presented it to her, Hermione had thought it perfect.

His actual proposal had been perfect, too, and it was yet another memory of the library that was hampering her packing. Nothing flashy or public, both things she would have hated. Instead, he'd chosen to remind her of their beginning. 

She’d been sitting at her desk in their library, books piled up around her as she researched her case. With her head buried in a text, she had been almost oblivious to Viktor entering. He'd reclaimed his current novel from the edge of her desk, and with a quick kiss to the top of her head, he had withdrawn to his favourite armchair.

It was a scene that had become so familiar between them, that Hermione didn't even acknowledge how reminiscent it was of the time they'd spent together in another library.

Hermione had lost track of how long they'd sat like that. All she remembered was reaching up to grab a book she needed off the top of the stack and an origami bird fluttering out, circling her head, before landing on her hand.

She'd looked up then at Viktor and he'd been looking right back, a soft smile on his lips, his book abandoned on his lap.

She'd quirked her lips at him, a little confused but happy at the reminder or their first meeting. He'd asked her to the Yule Ball like this. Fifteen year old Hermione had been completely charmed by the unique sweetness of his entreaty.

“Viktor?” she had asked and he'd just grinned.

“Open it.”

She’d stroked her finger over the bird’s back and it had unfolded, leaving her looking at the ring her parents had helped him pick and the words ‘ _I love you. Marry me, please?_ ’ It had been so sweet that Hermione had been unable to stop a few tears from falling as she'd nodded enthusiastically, hiccuping out a barely audible “Yes. Gods, yes, Viktor.” 

They had celebrated in his armchair, their clothes strewn around on the library floor, her case temporarily forgotten as she straddled his thighs and lowered herself down onto him with a moan, sharing their joy and losing themselves in each other.

~*~

“I haff finished packing the living room,” Viktor announced, snapping her out of the memory as he walked into the library and added several miniaturised boxes to the crate. He was wearing a white t-shirt and the ridiculously bright bermuda shorts Hermione had bought him as a gag gift the previous Christmas when they had been visiting her parents.

He looked beyond gorgeous and Hermione’s throat went a little dry.

“You haff not finished packing,” he said, his brow drawn down into that sexy frown of his as he looked from her desk to his armchair.

Hermione wiggled back onto the desk a little, a coy smile curling her lips. “I did the books,” she defended. “But then I got a little… nostalgic.” She raised her eyebrow at him and let her legs fall slightly apart.

Viktor’s eyes darkened and dropped to where the skirt of Hermione’s summer dress was slowly being hitched up. “Nostalgic?” he repeated with a slow wolfish grin.

Hermione nodded, her fingers unbuttoning the top two buttons of the dress. “I was thinking we should probably say a proper goodbye to this room.”

“On the desk?” Viktor clarified, taking a step forward and stripping off his t-shirt.

“Uh huh, and the chair,” she said, grinning and trailing her fingers teasingly up her thigh.

Viktor groaned and was suddenly across the room kissing her, his lips coaxing hers open and begging her tongue to join his in a dance that was so familiar now, but still just as exhilarating as it had ever been.

“Maybe that spot in the hall as vell,” he suggested, releasing her mouth to pepper a trail of kisses down her neck to the swell of her breast. He nosed aside the material of her partially opened dress to claim the peaked nipple within, sucking it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. Hermione gasped into the kiss, arching her back to press her breast further into his far too talented mouth.

“I really hope you haven't packed the kitchen table yet either,” she said, threading her fingers into Viktor’s short hair.

Viktor pulled back and smirked. “Yes, but I vill carry it back in!” 

Before he could lean back in, Hermione cupped his face in her hand and, unable to contain the feeling swelling in her chest, she said earnestly, “I love you.” 

Viktor smiled, as he cupped her cheek in return. His warm eyes turned suddenly mischievous though as he replied, “I know.”

“Arse!” Hermione huffed, slapping his bicep and cursing ever introducing him to Star Wars and muggle sci-fi.

Viktor just grinned in return and pushed her back against the desk, making her heart race at the look in his eyes as he lifted one of her legs to wrap around his hip. Hermione twined her other leg around him, pulling him closer, and stretching up to try and catch his lips. But his hand spread out over her breastbone and stopped her.

“I love you too, _malka lūvitsa_ ,” Viktor said and held her gaze, his voice full of sincerity and affection. 

Hermione's eyes widened and filled with all the emotion she held for this wonderful man, and it expanded within her in a fiery surge that spurred her to pull him to her. His mouth pressing down on hers sparked a million stars across her skin, as they kissed into life new, breathtaking galaxies that they mapped with their fingers. Even after three years of kissing him, it still felt as exciting as their first; still left her body humming with anticipation and eager for the next. Viktor had kept his promise to her from that first night they’d spent together - it had never felt superficial, their connection only expanding and resonating until it felt infinite.

“I love you,” Viktor said again, pausing the kiss, his lips curling with a familiar hint of mischief as he looked down at her. “And after ve haff finished saying goodbye to this house, I promise to help you say hello to our new von.”

_~Nox~_

**A.N:**  
-malka lūvitsa = Little lioness, or at least I hope so as I used google translate.  
-Bez zadrūzhki - uninhibited

-The meaning of the gemstones in Hermione's ring:  
Ruby - courage, life force, passion  
Sapphire - honesty, purity and trust 

-All the chapter titles are related to astronomy and the quotes are from a book of poetry titled: Love and Space Dust.

-The book Viktor is reading is one of The Witcher series which I've just started myself after binge watching the series on Netflix. I had no idea before that it was a book as well, I just knew the computer game. I thought the title may have intrigued Viktor if he'd come across it in a shop.


End file.
